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THE    DEATH    OF    THE    GRIZZLY. 

Frontispiece  (see  page  305) 


Stan&arfc  library  Edition 

The 
Wilderness  Hunter 

An  Account  of  the  Big  Game  of  the  United 

States  and  its  Chase  with  Horse 

Hound,  and  Rifle 

BY 

Theodore  Roosevelt 

Author  of  "Hunting  Trips  of  a  Ranchman,"  "The  Winning  of  the  West" 
"American  Ideals,"  "Naval  War  of  1812,"  etc. 


Illustrated 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  and  London 
ZTbe  Ifcnicfeerbocfeer  press 


MCMIX 


COPYRIGHT,  1893,  BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London 

BY  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Ubc  fmicfcerbocfcer  t>rea0,  "Hew 


TO 

E.  K.  R 


241488 


"  They  saw  the  silences 
Move  by  and  beckon  ;  saw  the  forms, 
The  very  beards,  of  burly  storms, 
And  heard  them  talk  like  sounding  seas  .  .  . 
They  saw  the  snowy  mountains  rolled 
And  heaved  along  the  nameless  lands 
Like  mighty  billows  ;  saw  the  gold 
Of  awful  sunsets  ;  saw  the  blush 
Of  sudden  dawn,  and  felt  the  hush 
Of  heaven  when  the  day  sat  down 
And  hid  his  face  in  dusky  hands." 

Joaquin  Miller. 


"  In  vain  the  speeding  or  shyness  ; 

In  vain  the  elk  takes  to  the  inner  passes  of  the  woods  .  .  . 
.  .  .  where  geese  nip  their  food  with  short  jerks, 

Where  sundown  shadows  lengthen  over  the  limitless  prairie, 

Where  herds  of  buffalo  make  a  crawling  spread  of  the  square  miles,  far 
and  near, 

Where  winter  wolves  bark  amid  wastes  of  snow  and  ice-clad  trees  .  .  . 

The  moose,  large  as  an  ox,  cornered  by  hunters,  plunging  with  his  fore- 
feet, the  hoofs  as  sharp  as  knives  .  .  . 

The  blazing  fire  at  night,  the  sweet  taste  of  supper,  the  talk,  the  bed  of 
hemlock  boughs,  and  the  bear-skin." 

Walt  Whitman, 


CONTENTS. 


PREFACE 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   AMERICAN  WILDERNESS  ;    WILDERNESS  HUNTERS  AND   WILDERNESS 

GAME. 

The  American  wilderness — Forests,  plains,  mountains — Likeness  and  unlike- 
ness  to  the  old-world  wilderness — Wilderness  hunters — Boone,  Crockett, 
Houston,  Carson — The  trappers — The  buffalo  hunters — The  stockmen — 
The  regular  army — Wilderness  game — Bison,  moose,  elk,  caribou,  deer, 
antelope — Other  game — Hunting  in  the  wilderness  .....  1-19 


CHAPTER  II. 
HUNTING    FROM    THE    RANCH  ;    THE   BLACKTAIL   DEER. 

In  the  cattle  country — Life  on  a  ranch — A  round-up — Branding  a  maverick — 
The  Bad  Lands — A  shot  at  a  blacktail — Still-hunting  the  blacktail — Its 
habits — Killing  a  buck  in  August — A  shot  at  close  range — Occasional  un- 
wariness  of  blacktail  .........  20-36 

CHAPTER  III. 
THE   WHITETAIL   DEER  ;    AND    THE   BLACKTAIL    OF    THE    COLUMBIA. 

The  whitetail — Yields  poor  sport — Fire  hunting — Hunting  with  hounds — Shoot- 
ing at  running  game — Queer  adventure — Anecdotes  of  plainsmen — Good 
and  bad  shots — A  wagon  trip — A  shot  from  the  ranch-house  verandah — The 

Columbian  blacktail 37~54 

tii 


v;ii  Contents. 

CHAPTER  IV. 
ON    THE   CATTLE   RANGES  |    THE   PRONG-HORN    ANTELOPE. 

Riding  to  the  round-up — The  open  plains — Sights  and  sounds — Gophers,  prairie 
dogs,  sharp-tail  grouse,  antelope — The  cow-camp — Standing  night  guard — 
Dawn — Make  an  antelope  hunt — An  easy  stalk — A  difficult  stalk — Three 
antelope  shot — The  plains  skylark — The  meadow  lark — The  mocking-bird — 
Other  singers — Harsher  wilderness  sounds — Pack  rats — Plains  ferret,  Its 
ferocity — The  war  eagle — Attacks  antelope — Kills  jack-rabbit — One  shot 
on  wing  with  rifle 55-73 

CHAPTER  V. 
HUNTING    THE   PRONG-BUCK  ;    FROST,    FIRE,    AND    THIRST. 

Hunting  the  prong-buck — Long  shots — Misses — Winter  weather — A  hunt  in 
December — Riding  in  the  bitter  cold — The  old  hunter's  tepee — A  night  in  a, 
line  camp — An  antelope  herd — Two  bucks  shot — Riding  back  to  ranch — 
The  immigrant  train — Hunting  in  fall — Fighting  fire — A  summer  hunt — 
Sufferings  from  thirst — Swimming  cattle  across  a  swollen  stream — Wagon 
trip  to  the  Black  Hills — The  great  prairies — A  prong-buck  shot — Pleasant 
camp — Buck  shot  in  morning — Continue  our  journey — Shooting  sage  fowl 
and  prairie  fowl  with  rifle 74~99 

CHAPTER  VI. 
AMONG    THE   HIGH    HILLS  ;    THE   BIGHORN    OR   MOUNTAIN    SHEEP. 

A  summer  on  the  ranch — Working  among  the  cattle — Killing  game  for  the  ranch 
— A  trip  after  mountain  sheep — The  Bad  Lands — Solitary  camp — The  old 
horse  Manitou — Still-hunt  at  dawn — Young  ram  shot — A  hunt  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains — An  old  bighorn  stalked  and  shot — Habits  of  the  game  .  100-110 

CHAPTER  VII. 
MOUNTAIN    GAME  ;    THE    WHITE   GOAT. 

A.  trip  to  the  Bighole  Basin — Incidents  of  travel  with  a  wagon — Camp  among 
the  mountains — A  trip  on  foot  after  goats — Spruce  grouse — Lying  out  at 
night — A  climb  over  the  high  peaks — Two  goats  shot — Weary  tramp  back 
— A  hunt  in  the  Kootenai  country — Hard  climbing  among  the  wooded 
mountains — Goat  shot  on  brink  of  chasm — Ptarmigan  for  supper — Goat 
hunting  very  hard  work — Ways  and  habits  of  the  goats — Not  much 
decrease  in  numbers 111-130 


Contents.  ix 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
HUNTING   IN    THE   SELKIRKS  J    THE   CARIBOU. 

A  camp  on  Kootenai  Lake — Travelling  on  foot  through  the  dense  forests — Exces- 
sive toil — Water  shrew  and  water  thrush — Black  bear  killed — Mountain 
climbing — Woodchucks  and  conies — The  Indian  Ammal — Night  sounds — 
A  long  walk — A  caribou  killed — A  midwinter  trip  on  snow-shoes  in  Maine 
— Footprints  on  the  snow — A  helpless  deer — Caribou  at  ease  in  the  deep 
drifts I3I-I55 

CHAPTER  IX. 
THE   WAPITI    OR    ROUND-HORNED   ELK. 

A  hunt  in  the  Bitter  Root  mountains — A  trip  on  foot — Two  bull  elk  fighting— 
The  peace-maker — All  three  shot — Habits  of  the  wapiti — Their  bugling — 
A  grand  chorus — Shooting  a  bull  at  sunrise — Another  killed  near  the  ranch 
— Vanishing  of  the  elk — Its  antlers — The  lynx — Porcupine — Chickarees  and 
chipmunks — Clarke's  crow — Lewis'  woodpecker — Whisky-jack — Trout — 
The  Yellowstone  canyon 156-176 

CHAPTER  X. 
AN   ELK-HUNT    AT    TWO-OCEAN    PASS. 

In  the  Shoshones — Travelling  with  a  pack-train — Scenery — Flowers — A  squaw- 
man — Bull  elk  shot  in  rain  while  challenging — Storm — Breaking  camp  in 
rain — Two-Ocean  Pass — Our  camp — A  young  ten-pointer  shot — The  moun- 
tains in  moonlight — Blue  grouse — Snow-shoe  rabbits — Death  of  a  master  bull 
— The  Tetons — Following  a  bull  by  scent — 111  luck — Luck  changes — Death 
of  spike  bull — Three  bulls  killed — Travelling  home — Heavy  snowstorm — 
Bucking  horse — Various  hunts  compared — Number  cartridges  used — Still- 
hunting  the  elk 177-202 

CHAPTER  XI. 
THE   MOOSE  ;    THE    BEAST    OF    THE    WOODLAND. 

The  moose  of  the  Rocky  Mountains — Its  habits — Difficult  nature  of  its  haunts — 
Repeated  failures  while  hunting  it — Watching  a  marsh  at  dawn — A  moose 
in  the  reeds — Stalking  and  shooting  him — Travelling  light  with  a  pack- 
train — A  beaver  meadow — Shooting  a  big  bull  at  dawn — The  moose  in 
summer  ;  in  winter — Young  moose — Pugnacity  of  moose — Still-hunting 
moose — Rather  more  easy  to  kill  than  whitetail  deer — At  times  a  dangerous 
antagonist — The  winter  yards — Hunting  on  snow-shoes — A  narrow  escape 
— A  fatal  encounter  ..........  203-229 


Contents. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
THE    BISON    OR    AMERICAN    BUFFALO. 

Extermination  of  the  bison — My  brother  and  cousin  take  a  hunting  trip  in  Texas 
— Hardships — Hunting  on  the  Brazos — Many  buffalo  slain — Following  four 
bulls — A  stampede — Splitting  the  herd — Occasional  charges — A  Comanche 
war  party — Great  herds  on  the  Arkansas — Adventure  of  Clarence  King — 
The  bison  of  the  mountains — At  the  vanishing  point — A  hunt  for  mountain 
bison — A  trail  discovered — Skilful  tracking — A  band  of  six — Death  of  the 
bull — A  camp  in  the  canyon  .  230-254 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
THE    BLACK    BEAR. 

Habits  of  the  black  bear — Holds  his  own  well  in  the  land — The  old  hunters — 
Hunting  bear  with  dogs — General  Hampton's  hunting — Black  bear  at  bay 
— A  bear  catching  mice  and  chipmunks— Occasional  raids  on  the  farm 
yard — Their  weight — Those  I  have  killed 255-264 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
OLD    EPHRAIM,    THE    GRISLY    BEAR. 

The  king  of  American  game — Varieties  of  the  grisly — Worthlessness  of  old 
hunters'  opinions — Grisly  contrasted  with  black  bear — Size — Habits  in  old 
times — Habits  nowadays — Hybernating — Cattle  killing — Horse  killing — 
Range  cow  repels  bear — Bear  kills  sheep  and  hogs — Occasional  raids  on 
game — Killing  bison,  elk,  and  moose — Eats  carrion — Old  he's  sometimes  kill 
cubs — Usually  eats  roots  and  vegetables — Fondness  for  berries — Its  foes — 
Den — Fond  of  wallowing — She's  and  cubs — Trapping  bears — Hunting  them 
with  dogs — Ordinarily  killed  with  rifle 265-295 

CHAPTER  XV. 
HUNTING    THE    GRISLY. 

Camp  in  the  mountains — After  the  first  snow — Trailing  and  stalking  a  big  bear 
— His  death — Lying  in  camp — Stalking  and  shooting  a  bear  at  a  moose  car- 
cass— Lying  in  wait  for  a  bear  by  a  dead  elk — He  comes  late  in  the  evening 
— Is  killed — A  successful  hunting  trip — A  quarrel — I  start  home  alone — Get 
lost  on  second  day — Shot  at  a  grisly — His  resolute  charge  and  death — 
Danger  in  hunting  the  grisly — Exaggerated,  but  real — Rogers  charged — Dif- 
ference in  ferocity  in  different  bears — Dr.  Merrill's  queer  experience — 
Tazewell  Woody's  adventures — Various  ways  in  which  bears  attack — Ex- 
amples— Men  maimed  and  slain — Instances — Mr.  Whitney's  experience — A 
bear  killed  on  the  round-up — Ferocity  of  old-time  bears — Occasional  unpro- 
voked attacks — A  French  trapper  attacked— Cowboys  and  bears — Killing 
them  with  a  revolver — Feat  of  General  Jackson  ....  296-334 


Contents.  xi 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    COUGAR. 

Difficulty  of  killing  the  cougar — My  own  failures — Kill  one  in  the  mountains — 
Hunting  the  cougar  with  hounds — Experience  of  General  Wade  Hampton_ 
and  Col.  Cecil  Clay — "  Hold  on,  Penny  " — What  the  cougar  preys  on — Its 
haunts — Its    calls — Rarely   turns    on    man — Occasionally    dangerous — In- 
stances             335-347 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
A    PECCARY    HUNT    ON    THE    NUECES. 

A  trip  in  southern  Texas — A  ranch  on  the  Frio — Roping  cattle — Extermination 
of  the  peccary — Odd  habits— Occasionally  attacks  unprovoked — We  drive 
south  to  the  Nueces — Flower  prairies — Semi-tropical  landscape — Hunting 
on  horseback — Half-blood  hounds — Find  a  small  band  of  peccaries — Kill 
two — How  they  act  when  at  bay — Their  occasional  freaks  .  .  348-360 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
HUNTING    WITH    HOUNDS. 

Old-time  hunters  rarely  used  dogs — The  packs  of  the  southern  planters — Cours- 
ing in  the  West — Hunting  with  greyhounds  near  my  ranch — Jack-rabbits, 
foxes,  coyotes,  antelope,  and  deer — An  original  sportsman  of  the  prairies — 
Colonel  Williams'  greyhounds — Riding  on  the  plains — Cross-country  riding 
— Fox-hunting  at  Geneseo — A  day  with  Mr.  Wadsworth's  hounds — The 
Meadowbrook  drag  hounds — High  jumping — A  meet  at  Sagamore  Hill — 
Fox-hunting  and  fetishism — Prejudices  of  sportsmen,  foreign  and  native — 
Different  styles  of  riding 361-385 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
WOLVES    AND    WOLF-HOUNDS. 

The  wolf — Contrasted  with  coyote — Variations  in  color — Former  abundance— 
The  riddle  of  its  extermination — Inexplicable  differences  in  habits  between 
closely  related  species — Size  of  wolf— Animals  upon  which  it  preys — At- 
tacking cattle ;  horses  ;  other  animals  ;  foxes,  dogs,  and  even  coyotes — 
Runs  down  deer  and  antelope — Coyotes  catch  jack-rabbits — Wolves  around 
camp — A  wolf  shot — Wolf-hunting  with  hounds — An  overmatch  for  most 
dogs — Decinating  a  pack — Coursing  wolves  with  greyhounds — A  hunt  in  the 
foot-hills — Rousing  the  wolves — The  chase — The  worry — Death  of  both 
wolves — Wolf  hounds  near  Fort  Benton— Other  packs — The  Sun  River 
hounds — Their  notable  feats — Col.  Williams'  hounds  ....  386-411 


xii  Contents. 

CHAPTER  XX. 
IN   COWBOY   LAND. 

Development  of  archaic  types  of  character — Cowboys  and  hunters — Rough  vir- 
tues and  faults — Incidents — Hunting  a  horse-thief — Tale  of  the  ending  of  a 
desperado — Light-hearted  way  of  regarding  "  broke  horses" — Hardness  of 
the  life — Deaths  from  many  causes — Fight  of  Indians  with  trappers — The 
slaying  of  the  Medicine  Chief  Sword-Bearer — Mad  feat  and  death  of  two 
Cheyenne  braves  412-447 


CHAPTER   XXI. 
HUNTING    LORE. 

Game  which  ought  not  to  be  killed — Killing  black  bear  with  a  knife — Sports 
with  rod  and  shotgun — Snow-shoeing  and  mountaineering — American  wri- 
ters on  out-door  life — Burroughs — Thoreau — Audubon,  Coues,  etc. — Ameri- 
can hunting  books — American  writers  on  life  in  the  wilderness  ;  Parkman, 
Irving — Cooper  on  pioneer  life — American  statesmen  and  soldiers  devoted 
to  the  chase — Lincoln,  Jackson,  Israel  Putnam — A  letter  from  Webster  on 
trout-fishing — Clay — Washington — Hunting  Extracts  from  Washington's 
diaries — Washington  as  a  fox-hunter 448-464 

APPENDIX 465-468 

INDEX        .*...••« 469-472 


PREFACE. 

FOR  a  number  of  years  much  of  my  life  was  spent 
either  in  the  wilderness  or  on  the  borders  of  the 
settled  country — if,  indeed,  " settled"  is  a  term 
that  can  rightly  be  applied  to  the  vast,  scantily  peopled 
regions  where  cattle-ranching  is  the  only  regular  industry. 
During  this  time  I  hunted  much,  among  the  mountains 
and  on  the  plains,  both  as  a  pastime  and  to  procure 
hides,  meat,  and  robes  for  use  on  the  ranch  ;  and  it  was 
my  good  luck  to  kill  all  the  various  kinds  of  large  game 
that  can  properly  be  considered  to  belong  to  temperate 
North  America. 

In  hunting,  the  finding  and  killing  of  the  game  is  after 
all  but  a  part  of  the  whole.  The  free,  self-reliant,  adven- 
turous life,  with  its  rugged  and  stalwart  democracy ;  the 
wild  surroundings,  the  grand  beauty  of  the  scenery,  the 
chance  to  study  the  ways  and  habits  of  the  woodland 
creatures — all  these  unite  to  give  to  the  career  of  the  wil- 
derness hunter  its  peculiar  charm.  The  chase  is  among 
the  best  of  all  national  pastimes  ;  it  cultivates  that  vigor- 
ous manliness  for  the  lack  of  which  in  a  nation,  as  in  an 
individual,  the  possession  of  no  other  qualities  can  possibly 
atone. 

xiii 


Preface. 

No  one,  but  he  who  has  partaken  thereof,  can  under- 
stand the  keen  delight  of  hunting  in  lonely  lands.  For 
him  is  the  joy  of  the  horse  well  ridden  and  the  rifle  well 
held  ;  for  him  the  long  days  of  toil  and  hardship,  resolutely 
endured,  and  crowned  at  the  end  with  triumph.  In  after 
years  there  shall  come  forever  to  his  mind  the  memory  of 
endless  prairies  shimmering  in  the  bright  sun  ;  of  vast 
snow-clad  wastes  lying  desolate  under  gray  skies ;  of  the 
melancholy  marshes  ;  of  the  rush  of  mighty  rivers  ;  of  the 
breath  of  the  evergreen  forest  in  summer ;  of  the  croon- 
ing of  ice-armored  pines  at  the  touch  of  the  winds  of 
winter;  of  cataracts  roaring  between  hoary  mountain 
masses  ;  of  all  the  innumerable  sights  and  sounds  of  the 
wilderness  ;  of  its  immensity  and  mystery  ;  and  of  the 
silences  that  brood  in  its  still  depths. 

THEODORE  ROOSEVELT. 

SAGAMORE  HILL, 

June,  1893. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PACB 

THE  DEATH  OF  THE  GRIZZLY  .        .        .        Frontispiece 

Drawn  by  A.  B.  Frost 
BLACKTAIL    BUCKS    (From  Photograph  by  A.  S.  Bennett)  ...          28 

A  SHOT  AT  A  BLACKTAIL 32 

Drawn  by  Henry  Sandham 

A  STARTLED  FAMILY  (From  Photograph  by  A.  s.  Bennett)  ...      36 
A  SHOT  FROM  THE  VERANDAH 52 

Drawn  by  Henry  Sandham 

EAGLES  ATTACKING  A  PRONG-BUCK 70 

Drawn  by  Henry  Sandham 

FIGHTING  FIRE .86 

Drawn  by  A.  B.  Frost 

HEAD  OF  MOUNTAIN  RAM  <sbot  November,  i887)        .        .       .108 

Drawn  by  J.  Carter  Beard 

A    SUCCESSFUL    SHOT    (From  Photograph  by  author)  .  .  .122 

HEAD  OF  WHITE  GOAT  (shot  August,  i889)        .        .        .        .124 

Drawn  by  J.  Carter  Beard 

CAMP  IN  THE  FOREST 140 

Drawn  by  Henry  Sandham 

THE  DEATH  OF  THE  CARIBOU  BULL        .        .        .        .150 

Drawn  by  J.  Carter  Beard 

BULL  ELK  FIGHTING 160 

Drawn  by  J.  Carter  Beard 

THE  YELLOWSTONE  CANYON  (From  Photograph)        .        .       .176 


XV 


xvi  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

THE  THREE  TETONS  ..*.... 

Drawn  by  C.  Harry  Eaton 

HEAD    OF    ELK    (Shot  September,  1891) 

Drawn  by  J.  Carter  Beard 
HEAD    OF    MOOSE    (Shot  September,  1889)  .... 

Drawn  by  J.  Carter  Beard 

A  BUFFALO  STAMPEDE;  SPLITTING  THE  HERD 

Drawn  by  Frederick  Remington 

GRIZZLY  KILLING  A  STEER 

Drawn  by  Henry  Sandham 

A  COWBOY  AND  BEAR  FIGHT 

Drawn  by  Henry  Sandham 
HEAD    OF    COUGAR    (Shot  September,  1889)          .... 

Drawn  by  J.  Carter  Beard 

PECCARIES  AT  BAY 

Drawn  by  Henry  Sandham 

THE  END  OF  THE  COURSE 

Drawn  by  J.  Carter  Beard 

WORRY  OF  THE  WOLF 

Drawn  by  J.  Carter  Beard 


PACK 
.     192 

.  198 

.  214 

.  242 

.  2/4 

•  330 

•  338 

•  358 

•  366 
406 


THE  WILDERNESS  HUNTER. 


CHAPTER  I. 


THE    AMERICAN     WILDERNESS;     WILDERNESS    HUNTERS     AND 
WILDERNESS    GAME. 


M 


ANIFOLD  are  the  shapes  taken  by  the  American 
wilderness.  In  the  east,  from  the  Atlantic  coast 
to  the  Mississippi  valley,  lies  a  land  of  mag- 
nificent hardwood  forest.  In  endless  variety  and  beauty, 
the  trees  cover  the  ground,  save  only  where  they  have 
been  cleared  away  by  man,  or  where  towards  the  west  the 
expanse  of  the  forest  is  broken  by  fertile  prairies.  To- 
wards the  north,  this  region  of  hardwood  trees  merges 
insensibly  into  the  southern  extension  of  the  great  sub- 
arctic forest ;  here  the  silver  stems  of  birches  gleam 
against  the  sombre  background  of  coniferous  evergreens. 
In  the  southeast  again,  by  the  hot,  oozy  coasts  of  the 
South  Atlantic  and  the  Gulf,  the  forest  becomes  semi- 
tropical  ;  palms  wave  their  feathery  fronds,  and  the  tepid 
swamps  teem  with  reptile  life. 


*:*':  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Some  distance  beyond  the  Mississippi,  stretching  from 
Texas  to  North  Dakota,  and  westward  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  lies  the  plains  country.  This  is  a  region  of 
light  rainfall,  where  the  ground  is  clad  with  short  grass, 
while  cottonwood  trees  fringe  the  courses  of  the  winding 
plains  streams  ;  streams  that  are  alternately  turbid  tor- 
rents and  mere  dwindling  threads  of  water.  The  great 
stretches  of  natural  pasture  are  broken  by  gray  sage-brush 
plains,  and  tracts  of  strangely  shaped  and  colored  Bad 
Lands ;  sun-scorched  wastes  in  summer,  and  in  winter 
arctic  in  their  iron  desolation.  Beyond  the  plains  rise  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  their  flanks  covered  with  coniferous 
woods  ;  but  the  trees  are  small,  and  do  not  ordinarily 
grow  very  closely  together.  Towards  the  north  the 
forest  becomes  denser,  and  the  peaks  higher  ;  and  glaciers 
creep  down  towards  the  valleys  from  the  fields  of  ever- 
lasting snow.  The  brooks  are  brawling,  trout-filled  tor- 
rents ;  the  swift  rivers  foam  over  rapid  and  cataract,  on 
their  way  to  one  or  the  other  of  the  two  great  oceans. 

Southwest  of  the  Rockies  evil  and  terrible  deserts 
stretch  for  leagues  and  leagues,  mere  waterless  wastes  of 
sandy  plain  and  barren  mountain,  broken  here  and  there 
by  narrow  strips  of  fertile  ground.  Rain  rarely  falls,  and 
there  are  no  clouds  to  dim  the  brazen  sun.  The  rivers 
run  in  deep  canyons,  or  are  swallowed  by  the  burning 
sand ;  the  smaller  watercourses  are  dry  throughout  the 
greater  part  of  the  year. 

Beyond  this  desert  region  rise  the  sunny  Sierras  of 
California,  with  their  flower-clad  slopes  and  groves  of 
giant  trees  ;  and  north  of  them,  along  the  coast,  the  rain- 


The  American  Wilderness.  3 

shrouded  mountain  chains  of  Oregon  and  Washington, 
matted  with  the  towering  growth  of  the  mighty  evergreen 
forest. 

The  white  hunters,  who  from  time  to  time  first  pene- 
trated the  different  parts  of  this  wilderness,  found  them- 
selves in  such  hunting  grounds  as  those  wherein,  long 
ages  before,  their  Old-World  forefathers  had  dwelt ;  and 
the  game  they  chased  was  much  the  same  as  that  their 
lusty  barbarian  ancestors  followed,  with  weapons  of  bronze 
and  of  iron,  in  the  dim  years  before  history  dawned. 
As  late  as  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century  the  tur- 
bulent village  nobles  of  Lithuania  and  Livonia  hunted  the 
bear,  the  bison,  the  elk,  the  wolf,  and  the  stag,  and  hung 
the  spoils  in  their  smoky  wooden  palaces ;  and  so,  two 
hundred  years  later,  the  free  hunters  of  Montana,  in  the 
interludes  between  hazardous  mining  quests  and  bloody 
Indian  campaigns,  hunted  game  almost  or  quite  the  same 
in  kind,  through  the  cold  mountain  forests  surrounding 
the  Yellowstone  and  Flathead  lakes,  and  decked  their 
log  cabins  and  ranch  houses  with  the  hides  and  horns  of 
the  slaughtered  beasts. 

Zoologically  speaking,  the  north  temperate  zones  of 
the  Old  and  New  Worlds  are  very  similar,  differing  from 
one  another  much  less  than  they  do  from  the  various 
regions  south  of  them,  or  than  these  regions  differ  among 
themselves.  The  untrodden  American  wilderness  resem- 
bles both  in  game  and  physical  character  the  forests,  the 
mountains,  and  the  steppes  of  the  Old  World  as  it  was 
at  the  beginning  of  our  era.  Great  woods  of  pine  and 
fir,  birch  and  beech,  oak  and  chestnut ;  streams  where  the 


4  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

chief  game  fish  are  spotted  trout  and  silvery  salmon  ; 
grouse  of  various  kinds  as  the  most  common  game  birds  ; 
all  these  the  hunter  finds  as  characteristic  of  the  New 
World  as  of  the  Old.  So  it  is  with  most  of  the  beasts  of 
the  chase,  and  so  also  with  the  fur-bearing  animals  that 
furnish  to  the  trapper  alike  his  life  work  and  his  means  of 
livelihood.  The  bear,  wolf,  bison,  moose,  caribou,  wapiti, 
deer,  and  bighorn,  the  lynx,  fox,  wolverine,  sable,  mink, 
ermine,  beaver,  badger,  and  otter  of  both  worlds  are 
either  identical  or  more  or  less  closely  kin  to  one  another. 
Sometimes  of  the  two  forms,  that  found  in  the  Old  World 
is  the  largest.  Perhaps  more  often  the  reverse  is  true, 
the  American  beast  being  superior  in  size.  This  is 
markedly  the  case  with  the  wapiti,  which  is  merely  a  giant 
brother  of  the  European  stag,  exactly  as  the  fisher  is 
merely  a  very  large  cousin  of  the  European  sable  or 
marten.  The  extraordinary  prong-buck,  the  only  hollow- 
horned  ruminant  which  sheds  its  horns  annually,  is  a 
distant  representative  of  the  Old-World  antelopes  of  the 
steppes  ;  the  queer  white  antelope-goat  has  for  its  nearest 
kinsfolk  certain  Himalayan  species.  Of  the  animals  com- 
monly known  to  our  hunters  and  trappers,  only  a  few, 
such  as  the  cougar,  peccary,  raccoon,  possum  (and  among 
birds  the  wild  turkey),  find  their  nearest  representatives 
and  type  forms  in  tropical  America. 

Of  course  this  general  resemblance  does  not  mean 
identity.  The  differences  in  plant  life  and  animal  life,  no 
less  than  in  the  physical  features  of  the  land,  are  suffi- 
ciently marked  to  give  the  American  wilderness  a  charac- 
ter distinctly  its  own.  Some  of  the  most  characteristic  of 


The  American  Wilderness.  5 

the  woodland  animals,  some  of  those  which  have  most 
vividly  impressed  themselves  on  the  imagination  of  the 
hunters  and  pioneer  settlers,  are  the  very  ones  which  have 
no  Old- World  representatives.  The  wild  turkey  is  in 
every  way  the  king  of  American  game  birds.  Among 
the  small  beasts  the  coon  and  the  possum  are  those 
which  have  left  the  deepest  traces  in  the  humbler  lore  of 
the  frontier;  exactly  as  the  cougar — usually  under  the 
name  of  panther  or  mountain  lion — is  a  favorite  figure  in 
the  wilder  hunting  tales.  Nowhere  else  is  there  anything 
to  match  the  wealth  of  the  eastern  hardwood  forests,  in 
number,  variety,  and  beauty  of  trees  ;  nowhere  else  is 
it  possible  to  find  conifers  approaching  in  size  the  giant 
redwoods  and  sequoias  of  the  Pacific  slope.  Nature  here 
is  generally  on  a  larger  scale  than  in  the  Old- World  home 
of  our  race.  The  lakes  are  like  inland  seas,  the  rivers 
like  arms  of  the  sea.  Among  stupendous  mountain 
chains  there  are  valleys  and  canyons  of  fathomless  depth 
and  incredible  beauty  and  majesty.  There  are  tropical 
swamps,  and  sad,  frozen  marshes  ;  deserts  and  Death  Val- 
leys, weird  and  evil,  and  the  strange  wonderland  of  the 
Wyoming  geyser  region.  The  waterfalls  are  rivers  rush- 
ing over  precipices  ;  the  prairies  seem  without  limit,  and 
the  forest  never  ending. 

At  the  time  when  we  first  became  a  nation,  nine  tenths 
of  the  territory  now  included  within  the  limits  of  the 
United  States  was  wilderness.  It  was  during  the  stirring 
and  troubled  years  immediately  preceding  the  outbreak 
of  the  Revolution  that  the  most  adventurous  hunters,  the 
vanguard  of  the  hardy  army  of  pioneer  settlers,  first 


6  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

crossed  the  Alleghanies,  and  roamed  far  and  wide  through 
the  lonely,  danger-haunted  forests  which  filled  the  No- 
man's-land  lying  between  the  Tennessee  and  the  Ohio. 
They  waged  ferocious  warfare  with  Shawnee  and  Wyan- 
dott  and  wrought  huge  havoc  among  the  herds  of  game 
with  which  the  forests  teemed.  While  the  first  Conti- 
nental Congress  was  still  sitting,  Daniel  Boone,  the  arche- 
type of  the  American  hunter,  was  leading  his  bands  of 
tall  backwoods  riflemen  to  settle  in  the  beautiful  country 
of  Kentucky,  where  the  red  and  the  white  warriors  strove 
with  such  obstinate  rage  that  both  races  alike  grew  to 
know  it  as  "  the  dark  and  bloody  ground." 

Boone  and  his  fellow-hunters  were  the  heralds  of  the 
oncoming  civilization,  the  pioneers  in  that  conquest  of 
the  wilderness  which  has  at  last  been  practically  achieved 
in  our  own  day.  Where  they  pitched  their  camps  and 
built  their  log  huts  or  stockaded  hamlets,  towns  grew  up, 
and  men  who  were  tillers  of  the  soil,  not  mere  wilderness 
wanderers,  thronged  in  to  take  and  hold  the  land.  Then, 
ill-at-ease  among  the  settlements  for  which  they  had 
themselves  made  ready  the  way,  and  fretted  even  by  the 
slight  restraints  of  the  rude  and  uncouth  semi-civilization 
of  the  border,  the  restless  hunters  moved  onward  into 
the  yet  unbroken  wilds  where  the  game  dwelt  and  the  red 
tribes  marched  forever  to  war  and  hunting.  Their  un- 
tamable souls  ever  found  something  congenial  and  beyond 
measure  attractive  in  the  lawless  freedom  of  the  lives  of 
the  very  savages  against  whom  they  warred  so  bitterly. 

Step  by  step,  often  leap  by  leap,  the  frontier  of  set- 
tlement was  pushed  westward  ;  and  ever  from  before  its 


The  American  Wilderness.  7 

advance  fled  the  warrior  tribes  of  the  red  men  and  the 
scarcely  less  intractable  array  of  white  Indian  fighters 
and  game  hunters.  When  the  Revolutionary  war  was  at 
its  height,  George  Rogers  Clarke,  himself  a  mighty  hun- 
ter of  the  old  backwoods  type,  led  his  handful  of  hunter- 
soldiers  to  the  conquest  of  the  French  towns  of  the  Illi- 
nois. This  was  but  one  of  the  many  notable  feats  of 
arms  performed  by  the  wild  soldiery  of  the  backwoods. 
Clad  in  their  fringed  and  tasselled  hunting  shirts  of  buck- 
skin or  homespun,  with  coonskin  caps  and  deer-hide  leg- 
gings and  moccasins,  with  tomahawk  and  scalping  knife 
thrust  into  their  bead-worked  belts,  and  long  rifles  in 
hand,  they  fought  battle  after  battle  of  the  most  bloody 
character,  both  against  the  Indians,  as  at  the  Great 
Kanawha,  at  the  Fallen  Timbers,  and  at  Tippecanoe,  and 
against  more  civilized  foes,  as  at  King's  Mountain,  New 
Orleans,  and  the  River  Thames. 

Soon  after  the  beginning  of  the  present  century- 
Louisiana  fell  into  our  hands,  and  the  most  daring  hun- 
ters and  explorers  pushed  through  the  forests  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi valley  to  the  great  plains,  steered  across  these 
vast  seas  of  grass  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  then 
through  their  rugged  defiles  onwards  to  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
In  every  work  of  exploration,  and  in  all  the  earlier  battles 
with  the  original  lords  of  the  western  and  southwestern 
lands,  whether  Indian  or  Mexican,  the  adventurous  hun- 
ters played  the  leading  part ;  while  close  behind  came  the 
swarm  of  hard,  dogged,  border-farmers, — a  masterful  race, 
good  fighters  and  good  breeders,  as  all  masterful  races 
must  be. 


8  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Very  characteristic  in  its  way  was  the  career  of  quaint, 
honest,  fearless  Davy  Crockett,  the  Tennessee  rifleman 
and  Whig  Congressman,  perhaps  the  best  shot  in  all  our 
country,  whose  skill  in  the  use  of  his  favorite  weapon 
passed  into  a  proverb,  and  who  ended  his  days  by  a 
hero's  death  in  the  ruins  of  the  Alamo.  An  even  more 
notable  man  was  another  mighty  hunter,  Houston,  who 
when  a  boy  ran  away  to  the  Indians  ;  who  while  still  a 
lad  returned  to  his  own  people  to  serve  under  Andrew 
Jackson  in  the  campaigns  which  that  greatest  of  all  the 
backwoods  leaders  waged  against  the  Creeks,  the  Span- 
iards, and  the  British.  He  was  wounded  at  the  storming 
of  one  of  the  strongholds  of  Red  Eagle's  doomed  war- 
riors, and  returned  to  his  Tennessee  home  to  rise  to  high 
civil  honor,  and  become  the  foremost  man  of  his  State. 
Then,  while  Governor  of  Tennessee,  in  a  sudden  fit  of 
moody  anger,  and  of  mad  longing  for  the  unfettered  life 
of  the  wilderness,  he  abandoned  his  office,  his  people,  and 
his  race,  and  fled  to  the  Cherokees  beyond  the  Missis- 
sippi. For  years  he  lived  as  one  of  their  chiefs ;  until 
one  day,  as  he  lay  in  ignoble  ease  and  sloth,  a  rider  from 
the  south,  from  the  rolling  plains  of  the  San  Antonio  and 
Brazos,  brought  word  that  the  Texans  were  up,  and  in 
doubtful  struggle  striving  to  wrest  their  freedom  from  the 
lancers  and  carbineers  of  Santa  Anna.  Then  his  dark 
soul  flamed  again  into  burning  life  ;  riding  by  night  and 
day  he  joined  the  risen  Texans,  was  hailed  by  them  as  a 
heaven-sent  leader,  and  at  the  San  Jacinto  led  them  on 
to  the  overthrow  of  the  Mexican  host.  Thus  the  stark 
hunter,  who  had  been  alternately  Indian  fighter  and  In- 


The  American  Wilderness.  9 

dian  chief,  became  the  President  of  the  new  Republic, 
and,  after  its  admission  into  the  United  States,  a  Senator 
at  Washington  ;  and,  to  his  high  honor,  he  remained  to  the 
end  of  his  days  staunchly  loyal  to  the  flag  of  the  Union. 

By  the  time  that  Crockett  fell,  and  Houston  became 
the  darling  leader  of  the  Texans,  the  typical  hunter  and 
Indian  fighter  had  ceased  to  be  a  backwoodsman  ;  he 
had  become  a  plains-man,  or  mountain-man ;  for  the 
frontier,  east  of  which  he  never  willingly  went,  had  been 
pushed  beyond  the  Mississippi.  Restless,  reckless,  and 
hardy,  he  spent  years  of  his  life  in  lonely  wanderings 
through  the  Rockies  as  a  trapper  ;  he  guarded  the  slow- 
moving  caravans,  which  for  purposes  of  trade  journeyed 
over  the  dangerous  Santa  Fe  trail ;  he  guided  the  large 
parties  of  frontier  settlers  who,  driving  before  them  their 
cattle,  with  all  their  household  goods  in  their  white- 
topped  wagons,  spent  perilous  months  and  seasons  on 
their  weary  way  to  Oregon  or  California.  Joining  in 
bands,  the  stalwart,  skin-clad  riflemen  waged  ferocious 
war  on  the  Indians  scarcely  more  savage  than  themselves, 
or  made  long  raids  for  plunder  and  horses  against  the 
outlying  Mexican  settlements.  The  best,  the  bravest, 
the  most  modest  of  them  all  was  the  renowned  Kit  Car- 
son. He  was  not  only  a  mighty  hunter,  a  daring  fighter, 
a  finder  of  trails,  and  maker  of  roads  through  the  un- 
known, untrodden  wilderness,  but  also  a  real  leader  of 
men.  Again  and  again  he  crossed  and  re-crossed  the 
continent,  from  the  Mississippi  to  the  Pacific  ;  he  guided 
many  of  the  earliest  military  and  exploring  expeditions  of 
the  United  States  Government ;  he  himself  led  the  troops 


io  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

in  victorious  campaigns  against  Apache  and  Navahoe  ; 
and  in  the  Civil  War  he  was  made  a  colonel  of  the  Fed- 
eral army. 

After  him  came  many  other  hunters.  Most  were 
pure-blooded  Americans,  but  many  were  Creole  French- 
men, Mexicans,  or  even  members  of  the  so-called  civilized 
Indian  tribes,  notably  the  Delawares.  Wide  were  their 
wanderings,  many  their  strange  adventures  in  the  chase, 
bitter  their  unending  warfare  with  the  red  lords  of  the  land. 
Hither  and  thither  they  roamed,  from  the  desolate,  burn- 
ing deserts  of  the  Colorado  to  the  grassy  plains  of  the 
Upper  Missouri ;  from  the  rolling  Texas  prairies,  bright 
beneath  their  sunny  skies,  to  the  high  snow  peaks  of  the 
northern  Rockies,  or  the  giant  pine  forests,  and  soft 
rainy  weather,  of  the  coasts  of  Puget  Sound.  Their  main 
business  was  trapping,  furs  being  the  only  articles  yielded 
by  the  wilderness,  as  they  knew  it,  which  were  both  valu- 
able and  portable.  These  early  hunters  were  all  trappers 
likewise,  and,  indeed,  used  their  rifles  only  to  procure 
meat  or  repel  attacks.  The  chief  of  the  fur-bearing  ani- 
mals they  followed  was  the  beaver,  which  abounded  in 
the  streams  of  the  plains  and  mountains ;  in  the  far  north 
they  also  trapped  otter,  mink,  sable,  and  fisher.  They 
married  squaws  from  among  the  Indian  tribes  with  which 
they  happened  for  the  moment  to  be  at  peace  ;  they 
acted  as  scouts  for  the  United  States  troops  in  their 
campaigns  against  the  tribes  with  which  they  happened 
to  be  at  war. 

Soon  after  the  Civil  War  the  life  of  these  hunters, 
taken  as  a  class,  entered  on  its  final  stage.  The  Pacific 


The  American  Wilderness.  n 

coast  was  already  fairly  well  settled,  and  there  were  a  few 
mining  camps  in  the  Rockies ;  but  most  of  this  Rocky 
Mountains  region,  and  the  entire  stretch  of  plains  country 
proper,  the  vast  belt  of  level  or  rolling  grass  land  lying 
between  the  Rio  Grande  and  the  Saskatchewan,  still  re- 
mained primeval  wilderness,  inhabited  only  by  roving 
hunters  and  formidable  tribes  of  Indian  nomads,  and  by 
the  huge  herds  of  game  on  which  they  preyed.  Beaver 
swarmed  in  the  streams  and  yielded  a  rich  harvest  to  the 
trapper ;  but  trapping  was  no  longer  the  mainstay  of  the 
adventurous  plainsmen.  Foremost  among  the  beasts  of 
the  chase,  on  account  of  its  numbers,  its  size,  and  its 
economic  importance,  was  the  bison  or  American  buffalo  •. 
its  innumerable  multitudes  darkened  the  limitless  prairies. 
As  the  transcontinental  railroads  were  pushed  towards 
completion,  and  the  tide  of  settlement  rolled  onwards  with 
ever  increasing  rapidity,  buffalo  robes  became  of  great 
value.  The  hunters  forthwith  turned  their  attention 
mainly  to  the  chase  of  the  great  clumsy  beasts,  slaughter- 
ing them  by  hundreds  of  thousands  for  their  hides  ;  some- 
times killing  them  on  horseback,  but  more  often  on  foot, 
by  still-hunting,  with  the  heavy  long-range  Sharp's  rifle. 
Throughout  the  fifteen  years  during  which  this  slaughter 
lasted,  a  succession  of  desperate  wars  was  waged  with 
the  banded  tribes  of  the  Horse  Indians.  All  the  time, 
in  unending  succession,  long  trains  of  big  white-topped 
wagons  crept  slowly  westward  across  the  prairies,  marking 
the  steady  oncoming  of  the  frontier  settlers. 

By  the  close   of    1883  the  last  buffalo  herd  was  de- 
stroyed.    The  beaver  were  trapped  out  of  all  the  streams, 


12  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

or  their  numbers  so  thinned  that  it  no  longer  paid  to  fol- 
low them.  The  last  formidable  Indian  war  had  been 
brought  to  a  successful  close.  The  flood  of  the  incoming 
whites  had  risen  over  the  land ;  tongues  of  settlement 
reached  from  the  Mississippi  to  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and 
from  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Pacific.  The  frontier 
had  come  to  an  end ;  it  had  vanished.  With  it  vanished 
also  the  old  race  of  wilderness  hunters,  the  men  who  spent 
all  their  days  in  the  lonely  wilds,  and  who  killed  game  as 
their  sole  means  of  livelihood.  Great  stretches  of  wilder- 
ness still  remain  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  here  and 
there  in  the  plains  country,  exactly  as  much  smaller  tracts 
of  wild  land  are  to  be  found  in  the  Alleghanies  and 
northern  New  York  and  New  England  ;  and  on  these 
tracts  occasional  hunters  and  trappers  still  linger  ;  but  as 
a  distinctive  class,  with  a  peculiar  and  important  position 
in  American  life,  they  no  longer  exist. 

There  were  other  men  beside  the  professional  hunters, 
who  lived  on  the  borders  of  the  wilderness,  and  followed 
hunting,  not  only  as  a  pastime,  but  also  as  yielding  an 
important  portion  of  their  subsistence.  The  frontier 
farmers  were  all  hunters.  In  the  eastern  backwoods,  and 
in  certain  places  in  the  west,  as  in  Oregon,  these  adven- 
turous tillers  of  the  soil  were  the  pioneers  among  the 
actual  settlers  ;  in  the  Rockies  their  places  were  taken  by 
the  miners,  and  on  the  great  plains  by  the  ranchmen  and 
cowboys,  the  men  who  lived  in  the  saddle,  guarding  their 
branded  herds  of  horses  and  horned  stock.  Almost  all 
of  the  miners  and  cowboys  were  obliged  on  occasions  to 
turn  hunters. 


The  American  Wilderness.  13 

Moreover,  the  regular  army  which  played  so  important 
a  part  in  all  the  later  stages  of  the  winning  of  the  west 
produced  its  full  share  of  mighty  hunters.  The  later  In^ 
dian  wars  were  fought  principally  by  the  regulars.  The 
West  Point  officer  and  his  little  company  of  trained  sol- 
diers appeared  abreast  of  the  first  hardy  cattlemen  and 
miners.  The  ordinary  settlers  rarely  made  their  appear- 
ance until  in  campaign  after  campaign,  always  inconceiv- 
ably wearing  and  harassing,  and  often  very  bloody  in 
character,  the  scarred  and  tattered  troops  had  broken  and 
overthrown  the  most  formidable  among  the  Indian  tribes. 
Faithful,  uncomplaining,  unflinching,  the  soldiers  wearing 
the  national  uniform  lived  for  many  weary  years  at  their 
lonely  little  posts,  facing  unending  toil  and  danger  with 
quiet  endurance,  surrounded  by  the  desolation  of  vast  sol- 
itudes, and  menaced  by  the  most  merciless  of  foes.  Hunt- 
ing was  followed  not  only  as  a  sport,  but  also  as  the  only 
means  of  keeping  the  posts  and  the  expeditionary  trains 
in  meat.  Many  of  the  officers  became  equally  proficient 
as  marksmen  and  hunters.  The  three  most  famous  In- 
dian fighters  since  the  Civil  War,  Generals  Custer,  Miles, 
and  Crook,  were  all  keen  and  successful  followers  of  the 
chase. 

Of  American  big  game  the  bison,  almost  always  known 
as  the  buffalo,  was  the  largest  and  most  important  to  man. 
When  the  first  white  settlers  landed  in  Virginia  the  bison 
ranged  east  of  the  Alleghanies  almost  to  the  sea-coast, 
westward  to  the  dry  deserts  lying  beyond  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  northward  to  the  Great  Slave  Lake  and  south- 
ward to  Chihuahua.  It  was  a  beast  of  the  forests  and 


14  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

mountains,  in  the  Alleghanies  no  less  than  in  the  Rockies; 
but  its  true  home  was  on  the  prairies,  and  the  high  plains. 
Across  these  it  roamed,  hither  and  thither,  in  herds  of 
enormous,  of  incredible  magnitude ;  herds  so  large  that 
they  covered  the  waving  grass  land  for  hundreds  of  square 
leagues,  and  when  on  the  march  occupied  days  and  days 
in  passing  a  given  point.  But  the  seething  myriads  of 
shaggy-maned  wild  cattle  vanished  with  remarkable  and 
melancholy  rapidity  before  the  inroads  of  the  white  hun- 
ters, and  the  steady  march  of  the  oncoming  settlers. 
Now  they  are  on  the  point  of  extinction.  Two  or  three 
hundred  are  left  in  that  great  national  game  preserve,  the 
Yellowstone  Park  ;  and  it  is  said  that  others  still  remain 
in  the  wintry  desolation  of  Athabasca.  Elsewhere  only 
a  few  individuals  exist — probably  considerably  less  than 
half  a  hundred  all  told — scattered  in  small  parties  in  the 
wildest  and  most  remote  and  inaccessible  portions  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  A  bison  bull  is  the  largest  American 
animal.  His  huge  bulk,  his  short,  curved  black  horns, 
the  shaggy  mane  clothing  his  great  neck  and  shoulders, 
give  him  a  look  of  ferocity  which  his  conduct  belies.  Yet 
he  is  truly  a  grand  and  noble  beast,  and  his  loss  from  our 
prairies  and  forest  is  as  keenly  regretted  by  the  lover  of 
nature  and  of  wild  life  as  by  the  hunter. 

Next  to  the  bison  in  size,  and  much  superior  in  height 
to  it  and  to  all  other  American  game — for  it  is  taller  than 
the  tallest  horse — comes  the  moose,  or  broad-horned  elk. 
It  is  a  strange,  uncouth-looking  beast,  with  very  long  legs, 
short  thick  neck,  a  big,  ungainly  head,  a  swollen  nose,  and 
huge  shovel  horns.  Its  home  is  in  the  cold,  wet  pine  and 


The  American  Wilderness.  15 

spruce  forests,  which  stretch  from  the  sub-arctic  region  of 
Canada  southward  in  certain  places  across  our  frontier. 
Two  centuries  ago  it  was  found  as  far  south  as  Massachu- 
setts. It  has  now  been  exterminated  from  its  former 
haunts  in  northern  New  York  and  Vermont,  and  is  on 
the  point  of  vanishing  from  northern  Michigan.  It  is  still 
found  in  northern  Maine  and  northeastern  Minnesota 
and  in  portions  of  northern  Idaho  and  Washington  ;  while 
along  the  Rockies  it  extends  its  range  southward  through 
western  Montana  to  northwestern  Wyoming,  south  of  the 
Tetons.  In  1884  I  saw  the  fresh  hide  of  one  that  was 
killed  in  the  Bighorn  Mountains. 

The  wapiti,  or  round-horned  elk,  like  the  bison,  and 
unlike  the  moose,  had  its  centre  of  abundance  in  the 
United  States,  though  extending  northward  into  Canada. 
Originally  its  range  reached  from  ocean  to  ocean  and  it 
went  in  herds  of  thousands  of  individuals ;  but  it  has  suf- 
fered more  from  the  persecution  of  hunters  than  any  other 
game  except  the  bison.  By  the  beginning  of  this  century  it 
had  been  exterminated  in  most  localities  east  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi ;  but  a  few  lingered  on  for  many  years  in  the 
Alleghanies.  Col.  Cecil  Clay  informs  me  that  an  Indian 
whom  he  knew  killed  one  in  Pennsylvania  in  1869.  A 
very  few  still  exist  here  and  there  in  northern  Michigan 
and  Minnesota,  and  in  one  or  two  spots  on  the  western 
boundary  of  Nebraska  and  the  Dakotas  ;  but  it  is  now 
properly  a  beast  of  the  wooded  western  mountains.  It  is 
still  plentiful  in  western  Colorado,  Wyoming,  and  Mon- 
tana, and  in  parts  of  Idaho,  Washington,  and  Oregon. 
Though  not  as  large  as  the  moose  it  is  the  most  beautiful 


1 6  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

and  stately  of  all  animals  of  the  deer  kind,  and  its  antlers 
are  marvels  of  symmetrical  grandeur. 

The  woodland  caribou  is  inferior  to  the  wapiti  both  in 
size  and  symmetry.  The  tips  of  the  many  branches  of 
its  long,  irregular  antlers  are  slightly  palmated.  Its  range 
is  the  same  as  that  of  the  moose,  save  that  it  does  not  go 
so  far  southward.  Its  hoofs  are  long  and  round  ;  even 
larger  than  the  long,  oval  hoofs  of  the  moose,  and  much 
larger  than  those  of  the  wapiti.  The  tracks  of  all  three 
can  be  told  apart  at  a  glance,  and  cannot  be  mistaken  for  the 
footprints  of  other  game.  Wapiti  tracks,  however,  look 
much  like  those  of  yearling  and  two-year-old  cattle,  unless 
the  ground  is  steep  or  muddy,  in  which  case  the  marks  of 
the  false  hoofs  appear,  the  joints  of  wapiti  being  more 
flexible  than  those  of  domestic  stock. 

The  whitetail  deer  is  now,  as  it  always  has  been,  the 
best  known  and  most  abundant  of  American  big  game, 
and  though  its  numbers  have  been  greatly  thinned  it  is 
still  found  in  almost  every  State  of  the  Union.  The  com- 
mon blacktail  or  mule  deer,  which  has  likewise  been  sadly 
thinned  in  numbers,  though  once  extraordinarily  abun- 
dant, extends  from  the  great  plains  to  the  Pacific  ;  but  is 
supplanted  on  the  Puget  Sound  coast  by  the  Columbian 
blacktail.  The  delicate,  heart-shaped  footprints  of  all 
three  are  nearly  indistinguishable  ;  when  the  animal  is 
running  the  hoof  points  are  of  course  separated.  The 
track  of  the  antelope  is  more  oval,  growing  squarer  with 
age.  Mountain  sheep  leave  footmarks  of  a  squarer  shape, 
the  points  of  the  hoof  making  little  indentations  in  the 
soil,  well  apart,  even  when  the  animal  is  only  walking  ;  and 


The  American  Wilderness.  17 

a  yearling's  track  is  not  unlike  that  made  by  a  big  prong* 
buck  when  striding  rapidly  with  the  toes  well  apart. 
White-goat  tracks  are  also  square,  and  as  large  as  those 
of  the  sheep ;  but  there  is  less  indentation  of  the  hoof 
points,  which  come  nearer  together. 

The  antelope,  or  prong-buck,  was  once  found  in 
abundance  from  the  eastern  edge  of  the  great  plains  to 
the  Pacific,  but  it  has  everywhere  diminished  in  numbers, 
and  has  been  exterminated  along  the  eastern  and  western 
borders  of  its  former  range.  The  bighorn,  or  mountain 
sheep,  is  found  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  from  northern 
Mexico  to  Alaska ;  and  in  the  United  States  from  the 
Coast  and  Cascade  ranges  to  the  Bad  Lands  of  the 
western  edges  of  the  Dakotas,  wherever  there  are  moun- 
tain chains  or  tracts  of  rugged  hills.  It  was  never  very 
abundant,  and,  though  it  has  become  less  so,  it  has  held 
its  own  better  than  most  game.  The  white  goat,  how- 
ever, alone  among  our  game  animals,  has  positively  in- 
creased in  numbers  since  the  advent  of  settlers ;  because 
white  hunters  rarely  follow  it,  and  the  Indians  who  once 
sought  its  skin  for  robes  now  use  blankets  instead.  Its 
true  home  is  in  Alaska  and  Canada,  but  it  crosses  our 
borders  along  the  lines  of  the  Rockies  and  Cascades,  and 
a  few  small  isolated  colonies  are  found  here  and  there 
southward  to  California  and  New  Mexico. 

The  cougar  and  wolf,  once  common  throughout  the 
United  States,  have  now  completely  disappeared  from  all 
save  the  wildest  regions.  The  black  bear  holds  its  own 
better  ;  it  was  never  found  on  the  great  plains.  The 
huge  grisly  ranges  from  the  great  plains  to  the  Pacific. 


1 8  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

The  little  peccary  or  Mexican  wild  hog  merely  crosses  our 
southern  border. 

The  finest  hunting  ground  in  America  was,  and  indeed 
is,  the  mountainous  region  of  western  Montana  and 
northwestern  Wyoming.  In  this  high,  cold  land,  of  lofty 
mountains,  deep  forests,  and  open  prairies,  with  its  beauti- 
ful lakes  and  rapid  rivers,  all  the  species  of  big  game 
mentioned  above,  except  the  peccary  and  Columbian 
blacktail,  are  to  be  found.  Until  1880  they  were  very 
abundant,  and  they  are  still,  with  the  exception  of  the 
bison,  fairly  plentiful.  On  most  of  the  long  hunting  ex- 
peditions which  I  made  away  from  my  ranch,  I  went 
into  this  region. 

The  bulk  of  my  hunting  has  been  done  in  the  cattle 
country,  near  my  ranch  on  the  Little  Missouri,  and  in 
the  adjoining  lands  round  the  lower  Powder  and  Yel- 
lowstone. Until  1 88 1  the  valley  of  the  Little  Missouri 
was  fairly  thronged  with  game,  and  was  absolutely  un- 
changed in  any  respect  from  its  original  condition  of 
primeval  wildness.  With  the  incoming  of  the  stockmen 
all  this  changed,  and  the  game  was  wofully  slaughtered ; 
but  plenty  of  deer  and  antelope,  a  few  sheep  and  bear, 
and  an  occasional  elk  are  still  left. 

Since  the  professional  hunters  have  vanished,  with  the 
vast  herds  of  game  on  which  they  preyed,  the  life  of  the 
ranchman  is  that  which  yields  most  chance  of  hunting. 
Life  on  a  cattle  ranch,  on  the  great  plains  or  among  the 
foothills  of  the  high  mountains,  has  a  peculiar  attraction 
for  those  hardy,  adventurous  spirits  who  take  most  kindly 
to  a  vigorous  out-of-doors  existence,  and  who  are  there- 


The  American  Wilderness.  19 

fore  most  apt  to  care  passionately  for  the  chase  of  big 
game.  The  free  ranchman  lives  in  a  wild,  lonely  country, 
and  exactly  as  he  breaks  and  tames  his  own  horses,  and 
guards  and  tends  his  own  branded  herds,  so  he  takes  the 
keenest  enjoyment  in  the  chase,  which  is  to  him  not 
merely  the  pleasantest  of  sports  but  also  a  means  of  add- 
ing materially  to  his  comforts,  and  often  his  only  method 
of  providing  himself  with  fresh  meat. 

Hunting  in  the  wilderness  is  of  all  pastimes  the  most 
attractive,  and  it  is  doubly  so  when  not  carried  on  merely 
as  a  pastime.  Shooting  over  a  private  game  preserve  is 
of  course  in  no  way  to  be  compared  to  it.  The  wilder- 
ness hunter  must  not  only  show  skill  in  the  use  of  the  rifle 
and  address  in  finding  and  approaching  game,  but  he 
must  also  show  the  qualities  of  hardihood,  self-reliance, 
and  resolution  needed  for  effectively  grappling  with  his 
wild  surroundings.  The  fact  that  the  hunter  needs  the 
game,  both  for  its  meat  and  for  its  hide,  undoubtedly 
adds  a  zest  to  the  pursuit.  Among  the  hunts  which  I 
have  most  enjoyed  were  those  made  when  I  was  engaged 
in  getting  in  the  winter's  stock  of  meat  for  the  ranch,  or 
was  keeping  some  party  of  cowboys  supplied  with  game 
from  day  to  day. 


CHAPTER  II. 

HUNTING  FROM  THE  RANCH  ;  THE  BLACKTAIL  DEER. 

NO  life  can  be  pleasanter  than  life  during  the  months 
of  fall  on  a  ranch  in  the  northern  cattle  country. 
The  weather  is  cool ;  in  the  evenings  and  on  the 
rare  rainy  days  we  are  glad  to  sit  by  the  great  fireplace, 
with  its  roaring  cottonwood  logs.     But  on  most  days  not 
a  cloud  dims  the  serene  splendor  of  the  sky  ;  and  the 
fresh  pure  air  is  clear  with  the  wonderful  clearness  of 
the  high  plains.     We  are   in  the  saddle   from  morning 
to  night. 

The  long,  low,  roomy  ranch  house,  of  clean  hewed 
logs,  is  as  comfortable  as  it  is  bare  and  plain.  We  fare 
simply  but  well ;  for  the  wife  of  my  foreman  makes  excel- 
lent bread  and  cake,  and  there  are  plenty  of  potatoes, 
grown  in  the  forlorn  little  garden-patch  on  the  bottom. 
We  also  have  jellies  and  jams,  made  from  wild  plums  and 
buffalo  berries  ;  and  all  the  milk  we  can  drink.  For  meat 
we  depend  on  our  rifles  ;  and,  with  an  occasional  interlude 
of  ducks  or  prairie  chickens,  the  mainstay  of  each  meal 
is  venison,  roasted,  broiled,  or  fried. 

Sometimes  we  shoot  the  deer  when  we  happen   on 


Hunting  from  the  Ranch.  21 

them  while  about  our  ordinary  business, — indeed  through- 
out the  time  that  I  have  lived  on  the  ranch,  very  many 
of  the  deer  and  antelope  I  killed  were  thus  obtained.  -Of 
course  while  doing  the  actual  round-up  work  it  is  impos- 
sible to  attend  to  anything  else  ;  but  we  generally  carry 
rifles  while  riding  after  the  saddle  band  in  the  early  morn- 
ing, while  visiting  the  line  camps,  or  while  in  the  saddle 
among  the  cattle  on  the  range ;  and  get  many  a  shot  in 
this  fashion. 

In  the  fall  of  1890  some  friends  came  to  my  ranch; 
and  one  day  we  took  them  to  see  a  round-up.  The  OX, 
a  Texan  steer-outfit,  had  sent  a  couple  of  wagons  to  work 
down  the  river,  after  beef  cattle,  and  one  of  my  men  had 
gone  along  to  gather  any  of  my  own  scattered  steers  that 
were  ready  for  shipping,  and  to  brand  the  late  calves. 
There  were  perhaps  a  dozen  riders  with  the  wagons ;  and 
they  were  camped  for  the  day  on  a  big  bottom  where 
Blacktail  and  Whitetail  creeks  open  into  the  river,  several 
miles  below  my  ranch. 

At  dawn  one  of  the  men  rode  off  to  bring  in  the  sad- 
dle band.  The  rest  of  us  were  up  by  sunrise ;  and  as  we 
stood  on  the  verandah  under  the  shimmering  cottonwood 
trees,  revelling  in  the  blue  of  the  cloudless  sky,  and  drink- 
ing in  the  cool  air  before  going  to  breakfast,  we  saw  the 
motley-colored  string  of  ponies  file  down  from  the  oppo- 
site bank  of  the  river,  and  splash  across  the  broad,  shallow 
ford  in  front  of  the  ranch  house.  Cantering  and  trotting 
the  band  swept  towards  the  high,  round  horse-corral,  in 
the  open  glade  to  the  rear  of  the  house.  Guided  by  the 
jutting  wing  which  stuck  out  at  right  angles,  they  entered 


22  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

the  open  gate,  which  was  promptly  closed  by  the. cowboy 
who  had  driven  them  in. 

After  breakfast  we  strolled  over  to  the  corral,  with  our 
lariats,  and,  standing  by  the  snubbing-post  in  the  middle, 
roped  the  horses  we  wished  for  the  party — some  that 
were  gentle,  and  others  that  were  not.  Then  every  man 
saddled  his  horse ;  and  at  the  moment  of  mounting  for 
the  start  there  was,  as  always,  a  thrill  of  mild  excitement, 
each  rider  hoping  that  his  own  horse  would  not  buck, 
and  that  his  neighbor's  would.  I  had  no  young  horses 
on  the  ranch  at  the  time  ;  but  a  number  of  the  older 
ones  still  possessed  some  of  the  least  amiable  traits  of 
their  youth. 

Once  in  the  saddle  we  rode  off  down  river,  along  the 
bottoms,  crossing  the  stream  again  and  again.  We  went 
in  Indian  file,  as  is  necessary  among  the  trees  and  in 
broken  ground,  following  the  cattle-trails — which  them- 
selves had  replaced  or  broadened  the  game  paths  that 
alone  crossed  the  plateaus  and  bottoms  when  my  ranch 
house  was  first  built.  Now  we  crossed  open  reaches  of 
coarse  grass,  thinly  sprinkled  with  large,  brittle  cotton- 
wood  trees,  their  branches  torn  and  splintered  ;  now  we 
wound  our  way  through  a  dense  jungle  where  the  gray, 
thorny  buffalo  bushes,  spangled  with  brilliant  red  berry 
clusters,  choked  the  spaces  between  the  thick-growing  box- 
alders  ;  and  again  the  sure-footed  ponies  scrambled  down 
one  cut  bank  and  up  another,  through  seemingly  im- 
possible rifts,  or  with  gingerly  footsteps  trod  a  path  which 
cut  the  side  of  a  butte  or  overhung  a  bluff.  Sometimes 
we  racked,  or  shacked  along  at  the  fox  trot  which  is  the 


Hunting  from  the  Ranch.  23 

cow-pony's  ordinary  gait ;  and  sometimes  we  loped  or 
galloped  and  ran. 

At  last  we  came  to  the  ford  beyond  which  the  riders 
of  the  round-up  had  made  their  camp.  In  the  bygone 
days  of  the  elk  and  buffalo,  when  our  branded  cattle  were 
first  driven  thus  far  north,  this  ford  had  been  dangerous 
from  quicksand ;  but  the  cattle,  ever  crossing  and  re-cros- 
sing, had  trodden  down  and  settled  the  sand,  and  had 
found  out  the  firm  places  ;  so  that  it  was  now  easy  to  get 
over. 

Close  beyond  the  trees  on  the  farther  bank  stood  the 
two  round-up  wagons  ;  near  by  was  the  cook's  fire,  in  a 
trench,  so  that  it  might  not  spread  ;  the  bedding  of  the 
riders  and  horse-wranglers  lay  scattered  about,  each  roll 
of  blankets  wrapped  and  corded  in  a  stout  canvas  sheet. 
The  cook  was  busy  about  the  fire  ;  the  night-wrangler 
was  snatching  an  hour  or  two's  sleep  under  one  of  the 
wagons.  Half  a  mile  away,  on  the  plain  of  sage  brush 
and  long  grass,  the  day-wrangler  was  guarding  the  grazing 
or  resting  horse  herd,  of  over  a  hundred  head.  Still  far- 
ther distant,  at  the  mouth  of  a  ravine,  was  the  day-herd  of 
cattle,  two  or  three  cowboys  watching  it  as  they  lolled 
drowsily  in  their  saddles.  The  other  riders  were  off  on 
circles  to  bring  in  cattle  to  the  round-up ;  they  were  ex- 
pected every  moment. 

With  the  ready  hospitality  always  shown  in  a  cow-camp 
we  were  pressed  to  alight  and  take  dinner,  or  at  least  a 
lunch  ;  and  accordingly  we  jumped  off  our  horses  and  sat 
down.  Our  tin  plates  were  soon  heaped  with  fresh  beef, 
bread,  tomatoes,  rice,  and  potatoes,  all  very  good ;  for 


24  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

the  tall,  bearded,  scrawny  cook  knew  his  work,  and  the 
OX  outfit  always  fed  its  men  well, — and  saw  that  they 
worked  well  too. 

Before  noon  the  circle  riders  began  to  appear  on  the 
plain,  coming  out  of  the  ravines,  and  scrambling  down  the 
steep  hills,  singly  or  in  twos  and  threes.  They  herded 
before  them  bunches  of  cattle,  of  varying  size  ;  these  were 
driven  together  and  left  in  charge  of  a  couple  of  cow- 
punchers.  The  other  men  rode  to  the  wagon  to  get  a 
hasty  dinner — lithe,  sinewy  fellows,  with  weather-rough- 
ened faces  and  fearless  eyes ;  their  broad  felt  hats  flapped 
as  they  galloped,  and  their  spurs  and  bridle  chains  jingled. 
They  rode  well,  with  long  stirrups,  sitting  straight  in  the 
deep  stock  saddles,  and  their  wiry  ponies  showed  no  signs 
of  fatigue  from  the  long  morning's  ride. 

The  horse-wrangler  soon  drove  the  saddle  band  to  the 
wagons,  where  it  was  caught  in  a  quickly  improvised  rope- 
corral.  The  men  roped  fresh  horses,  fitted  for  the  cutting- 
work  round  the  herd,  with  its  attendant  furious  galloping 
and  flash-like  turning  and  twisting.  In  a  few  minutes  all 
were  in  the  saddle  again  and  riding  towards  the  cattle. 

Then  began  that  scene  of  excitement  and  turmoil,  and 
seeming  confusion,  but  real  method  and  orderliness,  so 
familiar  to  all  who  have  engaged  in  stock-growing  on  the 
great  plains.  The  riders  gathered  in  a  wide  ring  round 
the  herd  of  uneasy  cattle,  and  a  couple  of  men  rode  into 
their  midst  to  cut  out  the  beef  steers  and  the  cows  that 
were  followed  by  unbranded  calves.  As  soon  as  the  ani- 
mal was  picked  out  the  cowboy  began  to  drive  it  slowly 
towards  the  outside  of  the  herd,  and  when  it  was  near  the 


Hunting  from  the  Ranch, .  25 

edge  he  suddenly  raced  it  into  the  open.  The  beast 
would  then  start  at  full  speed  and  try  to  double  back 
among  its  fellows ;  while  the  trained  cow-pony  followed 
like  a  shadow,  heading  it  off  at  every  turn.  The  riders 
round  that  part  of  the  herd  opened  out  and  the  chosen 
animal  was  speedily  hurried  off  to  some  spot  a  few  hundred 
yards  distant,  where  it  was  left  under  charge  of  another 
cowboy.  The  latter  at  first  had  his  hands  full  in  prevent- 
ing his  charge  from  rejoining  the  herd ;  for  cattle  dread 
nothing  so  much  as  being  separated  from  their  comrades. 
However,  as  soon  as  two  or  three  others  were  driven  out, 
enough  to  form  a  little  bunch,  it  became  a  much  easier 
matter  to  hold  the  "  cut"  as  it  is  called.  The  cows  and 
calves  were  put  in  one  place,  the  beeves  in  another  ;  the 
latter  were  afterwards  run  into  the  day-herd. 

Meanwhile  from  time  to  time  some  clean-limbed  young 
steer  or  heifer,  able  to  run  like  an  antelope  and  double 
like  a  jack-rabbit,  tried  to  break  out  of  the  herd  that  was 
being  worked,  when  the  nearest  cowboy  hurried  in  pur- 
suit at  top  speed  and  brought  it  back,  after  a  headlong, 
break-neck  race,  in  which  no  heed  was  paid  to  brush,  fal- 
len timber,  prairie-dog  holes,  or  cut  banks.  The  dust  rose 
in  little  whirling  clouds,  and  through  it  dashed  bolting 
cattle  and  galloping  cowboys,  hither  and  thither,  while 
the  air  was  filled  with  the  shouts  and  laughter  of  the  men, 
and  the  bellowing  of  the  herd. 

As  soon  as  the  herd  was  worked  it  was  turned  loose, 
while  the  cows  and  calves  were  driven  over  to  a  large  cor- 
ral, where  the  branding  was  done.  A  fire  was  speedily 
kindled,  and  in  it  were  laid  the  branding  irons  of  the  dif- 


26  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

ferent  outfits  represented  on  the  round-up.  Then  two  of 
the  best  ropers  rode  into  the  corral  and  began  to  rope  the 
calves,  round  the  hind  legs  by  preference,  but  sometimes 
round  the  head.  The  other  men  dismounted  to  ''wrestle" 
and  brand  them.  Once  roped,  the  calf,  bawling  and 
struggling,  was  swiftly  dragged  near  the  fire,  where  one 
or  two  of  the  calf-wrestlers  grappled  with  and  threw  the 
kicking,  plunging  little  beast,  and  held  it  while  it  was 
branded.  If  the  calf  was  large  the  wrestlers  had  hard 
work  ;  and  one  or  two  young  maverick  bulls — that  is,  un- 
branded  yearling  bulls,  which  had  been  passed  by  in  the 
round-ups  of  the  preceding  year — fought  viciously,  bel- 
lowing and  charging,  and  driving  some  of  the  men  up 
the  sides  of  the  corral,  to  the  boisterous  delight  of  the 
others. 

After  watching  the  work  for  a  little  while  we  left  and 
rode  homewards.  Instead  of  going  along  the  river  bot- 
toms we  struck  back  over  the  buttes.  From  time  to  time 
we  came  out  on  some  sharp  bluff  overlooking  the  river. 
From  these  points  of  vantage  we  could  see  for  several 
mues  up  and  down  the  valley  of  the  Little  Missouri. 
The  level  bottoms  were  walled  in  by  rows  of  sheer  cliffs, 
and  steep,  grassy  slopes.  These  bluff  lines  were  from  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  to  a  mile  apart ;  they  did  not  run 
straight,  but  in  a  succession  of  curves,  so  as  to  look  like 
the  halves  of  many  amphitheatres.  Between  them  the 
river  swept  in  great  bends  from  side  to  side  ;  the  wide 
bed,  brimful  during  the  time  of  freshets,  now  held  but  a 
thin  stream  of  water.  Some  of  the  bottoms  were  covered 
only  with  grass  and  sage  brush  ;  others  with  a  dense  jun- 


Hunting  from  the  Ranch.  27 

gle  of  trees  ;  while  yet  others  looked  like  parks,  the  cot- 
tonwoods  growing  in  curved  lines  or  in  clumps  scattered 
here  and  there. 

On  our  way  we  came  across  a  bunch  of  cattle,  among 
which  the  sharp  eyes  of  my  foreman  detected  a  maverick 
two-year-old  heifer.  He  and  one  of  the  cowboys  at  once 
got  down  their  ropes  and  rode  after  her ;  the  rest  of  us 
first  rounding  up  the  bunch  so  as  to  give  a  fair  start. 
After  a  sharp  run  one  of  the  men,  swinging  his  lariat 
round  his  head,  got  close  up  ;  in  a  second  or  two  the 
noose  settled  round  the  heifer's  neck,  and  as  it  became 
taut  she  was  brought  to  with  a  jerk ;  immediately  after- 
wards the  other  man  made  his  throw  and  cleverly  heeled 
her.  In  a  trice  the  red  heifer  was  stretched  helpless  on 
the  ground,  the  two  fierce  little  ponies,  a  pinto  and  a 
buckskin,  keeping  her  down  on  their  own  account,  tossing 
their  heads  and  backing  so  that  the  ropes  which  led  from 
the  saddle-horns  to  her  head  and  hind  feet  never  slack- 
ened. Then  we  kindled  a  fire  ;  one  of  the  cinch  rings 
was  taken  off  to  serve  as  a  branding  iron,  and  the  heifer 
speedily  became  our  property — for  she  was  on  our  range. 

When  we  reached  the  ranch  it  was  still  early,  and 
after  finishing  dinner  it  lacked  over  an  hour  of  sundown. 
Accordingly  we  went  for  another  ride  ;  and  I  carried  my 
rifle.  We  started  up  a  winding  coulie  which  opened 
back  of  the  ranch  house ;  and  after  half  an  hour's  canter 
clambered  up  the  steep  head-ravines,  and  emerged  on  a 
high  ridge  which  went  westward,  straight  as  an  arrow,  to 
the  main  divide  between  the  Little  Missouri  and  the  Big 
Beaver.  Along  this  narrow,  grassy  crest  we  loped  and 


28  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

galloped ;  we  were  so  high  that  we  could  look  far  and 
wide  over  all  the  country  round  about.  To  the  south- 
ward, across  a  dozen  leagues  of  rolling  and  broken 
prairie,  loomed  Sentinel  Butte,  the  chief  landmark  of  all 
that  region.  Behind  us,  beyond  the  river,  rose  the  weird 
chaos  of  Bad  Lands  which  at  this  point  lie  for  many  miles 
east  of  the  Little  Missouri.  Their  fantastic  outlines 
were  marked  against  the  sky  as  sharply  as  if  cut  with  a 
knife ;  their  grim  and  forbidding  desolation  warmed  into 
wonderful  beauty  by  the  light  of  the  dying  sun.  On  our 
right,  as  we  loped  onwards,  the  land  sunk  away  in  smooth 
green-clad  slopes  and  valleys  ;  on  our  left  it  fell  in  sheer 
walls.  Ahead  of  us  the  sun  was  sinking  behind  a  mass 
of  blood-red  clouds  ;  and  on  either  hand  the  flushed  skies 
were  changing  their  tint  to  a  hundred  hues  of  opal  and 
amethyst.  Our  tireless  little  horses  sprang  under  us, 
thrilling  with  life ;  we  were  riding  through  a  fairy  world 
of  beauty  and  color  and  limitless  space  and  freedom. 

Suddenly  a  short  hundred  yards  in  front  three  black- 
tail  leaped  out  of  a  little  glen  and  crossed  our  path,  with 
the  peculiar  bounding  gait  of  their  kind.  At  once  I 
sprang  from  my  horse  and,  kneeling,  fired  at  the  last  and 
largest  of  the  three.  My  bullet  sped  too  far  back,  but 
struck  near  the  hip,  and  the  crippled  deer  went  slowly 
down  a  ravine.  Running  over  a  hillock  to  cut  it  off,  I 
found  it  in  some  brush  a  few  hundred  yards  beyond  and 
finished  it  with  a  second  ball.  Quickly  dressing  it,  I 
packed  it  on  my  horse,  and  trotted  back  leading  him  ;  an 
hour  afterwards  we  saw  through  the  waning  light  the 
quaint,  home-like  outlines  of  the  ranch  house. 


Hunting  from  the  Ranch.  29 

After  all,  however,  blacktail  can  only  at  times  be 
picked  up  by  chance  in  this  way.  More  often  it  is  need- 
ful to  kill  them  by  fair  still-hunting,  among  the  hills  or 
wooded  mountains  where  they  delight  to  dwell.  If  hun- 
ted they  speedily  become  wary.  By  choice  they  live  in 
such  broken  country  that  it  is  difficult  to  pursue  them 
with  hounds ;  and  they  are  by  no  means  such  water-lov- 
ing animals  as  whitetail.  On  the  other  hand,  the  land  in 
which  they  dwell  is  very  favorable  to  the  still-hunter  who 
does  not  rely  merely  on  stealth,  but  who  can  walk  and 
shoot  well.  They  do  not  go  on  the  open  prairie,  and,  if 
possible,  they  avoid  deep  forests,  while,  being  good 
climbers,  they  like  hills.  In  the  mountains,  therefore, 
they  keep  to  what  is  called  park  country,  where  glades 
alternate  with  open  groves.  On  the  great  plains  they 
avoid  both  the  heavily  timbered  river  bottoms  and  the 
vast  treeless  stretches  of  level  or  rolling  grass  land  ;  their 
chosen  abode  being  the  broken  and  hilly  region,  scantily 
wooded,  which  skirts  almost  every  plains  river  and  forms 
a  belt,  sometimes  very  narrow,  sometimes  many  miles  in 
breadth,  between  the  alluvial  bottom  land  and  the  prai- 
ries beyond.  In  these  Bad  Lands  dwarfed  pines  and  cedars 
grow  in  the  canyon-like  ravines  and  among  the  high  steep 
hills;  there  are  also  basins  and  winding  coulies,  filled  with 
brush  and  shrubbery  and  small  elm  or  ash.  In  all  such 
places  the  blacktail  loves  to  make  its  home, 

I  have  not  often  hunted  blacktail  in  the  mountains, 
because  while  there  I  was  generally  after  larger  game  ; 
but  round  my  ranch  I  have  killed  more  of  them  than  of 
any  other  game,  and  for  me  their  chase  has  always 


30  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

sessed  a  peculiar  charm.  We  hunt  them  in  the  loveliest 
season  of  the  year,  the  fall  and  early  winter,  when  it  is 
keen  pleasure  merely  to  live  out-of-doors.  Sometimes 
we  make  a  regular  trip,  of  several  days'  duration,  taking 
the  ranch  wagon,  with  or  without  a  tent,  to  some  rugged 
and  little  disturbed  spot  where  the  deer  are  plenty ;  per- 
haps returning  with  eight  or  ten  carcasses,  or  even  more 
— enough  to  last  a  long  while  in  cold  weather.  We  often 
make  such  trips  while  laying  in  our  winter  supply  of  meat. 

At  other  times  we  hunt  directly  from  the  ranch  house. 
We  catch  our  horses  overnight,  and  are  in  the  saddle  for 
an  all-day's  hunt  long  before  the  first  streak  of  dawn, 
possibly  not  returning  until  some  hours  after  nightfall. 
The  early  morning  and  late  evening  are  the  best  time  for 
hunting  game,  except  in  regions  where  it  is  hardly  ever 
molested,  and  where  in  consequence  it  moves  about  more 
or  less  throughout  the  day. 

During  the  rut,  which  begins  in  September,  the  deer 
are  in  constant  motion,  and  are  often  found  in  bands. 
The  necks  of  the  bucks  swell  and  their  sides  grow  gaunt ; 
they  chase  the  does  all  night,  and  their  flesh  becomes 
strong  and  stringy — far  inferior  to  that  of  the  barren  does 
and  yearlings.  The  old  bucks  then  wage  desperate  con- 
flicts with  one  another,  and  bully  their  smaller  brethren 
unmercifully.  Unlike  the  elk,  the  blacktail,  like  the 
whitetail,  are  generally  silent  in  the  rutting  season.  They 
occasionally  grunt  when  fighting  ;  and  once,  on  a  fall 
evening,  I  heard  two  young  bucks  barking  in  a  ravine 
back  of  my  ranch  house,  and  crept  up  and  shot  them 
but  this  was  a  wholly  exceptional  instance. 


Hunting  from  the  Ranch.  31 

At  this  time  I  hunt  on  foot,  only  using  the  horse  to 
carry  me  to  and  from  the  hunting  ground  ;  for  while 
rutting,  the  deer,  being  restless,  do  not  try  to  escape 
observation  by  lying  still,  and  on  the  other  hand  are  apt 
to  wander  about  and  so  are  easily  seen  from  a  distance. 
When  I  have  reached  a  favorable  place  I  picket  my  horse 
and  go  from  vantage  point  to  vantage  point,  carefully 
scanning  the  hillsides,  ravines,  and  brush  coulies  from 
every  spot  that  affords  a  wide  outlook.  The  quarry  once 
seen  it  may  be  a  matter  of  hours,  or  only  of  minutes,  to 
approach  it,  accordingly  as  the  wind  and  cover  are  or  are 
not  favorable.  The  walks  for  many  miles  over  the  hills, 
the  exercise  of  constant  watchfulness,  the  excitement  of 
the  actual  stalk,  and  the  still  greater  excitement  of  the 
shot,  combine  to  make  still-hunting  the  blacktail,  in  the 
sharp  fall  weather,  one  of  the  most  attractive  of  hardy  out- 
door sports.  Then  after  the  long,  stumbling  walk  home- 
wards, through  the  cool  gloom  of  the  late  evening,  comes 
the  meal  of  smoking  venison  and  milk  and  bread,  and  the 
sleepy  rest,  lying  on  the  bear-skins,  or  sitting  in  the  rock- 
ing chair  before  the  roaring  fire,  while  the  icy  wind  moans 
outside. 

Earlier  in  the  season,  while  the  does  are  still  nursing 
the  fawns,  and  until  the  bucks  have  cleaned  the  last  ves- 
tiges of  velvet  from  their  antlers,  the  deer  lie  very  close, 
and  wander  round  as  little  as  may  be.  In  the  spring  and 
early  summer,  in  the  ranch  country,  we  hunt  big  game 
very  little,  and  then  only  antelope  ;  because  in  hunting 
antelope  there  is  no  danger  of  killing  aught  but  bucks. 
About  the  first  of  August  we  begin  to  hunt  blacktail, 


3 2  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

but  do  not  kill  does  until  a  month  later — and  then  only 
when  short  of  meat.  In  the  early  weeks  of  the  deer  sea- 
son we  frequently  do  even  the  actual  hunting  on  horse- 
back instead  of  on  foot ;  because  the  deer  at  this  time 
rarely  appear  in  view,  so  as  to  afford  chance  for  a  stalk, 
and  yet  are  reluctant  to  break  cover  until  very  closely 
approached.  In  consequence  we  keep  on  our  horses,  and 
so  get  over  much  more  ground  than  on  foot,  beating 
through  or  beside  all  likely-looking  cover,  with  the  object 
of  jumping  the  deer  close  by.  Under  such  circumstances 
bucks  sometimes  lie  until  almost  trodden  on. 

One  afternoon  in  mid-August,  when  the  ranch  was 
entirely  out  of  meat,  I  started  with  one  of  my  cow-hands, 
Merrifield,  to  kill  a  deer.  We  were  on  a  couple  of  stout, 
quiet  ponies,  accustomed  to  firing  and  to  packing  game. 
After  riding  a  mile  or  two  down  the  bottoms  we  left  the 
river  and  struck  off  up  a  winding  valley,  which  led  back 
among  the  hills.  In  a  short  while  we  were  in  a  blacktail 
country,  and  began  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  game, 
riding  parallel  to,  but  some  little  distance  from,  one 
another.  The  sun,  beating  down  through  the  clear  air, 
was  very  hot ;  the  brown  slopes  of  short  grass,  and  still 
more  the  white  clay  walls  of  the  Bad  Lands,  threw  the 
heat  rays  in  our  faces.  We  skirted  closely  all  likely-look- 
ing spots,  such  as  the  heavy  brush-patches  in  the  bottoms 
of  the  winding  valleys,  and  the  groves  of  ash  and  elm  in 
the  basins  and  pockets  flanking  the  high  plateaus  ;  some- 
times we  followed  a  cattle  trail  which  ran  down  the  mid- 
dle of  a  big  washout,  and  again  we  rode  along  the  brink 
of  a  deep  cedar  canyon.  After  a  while  we  came  to  a 


Hunting  from  the  Ranch.          33 

coulie  with  a  small  muddy  pool  at  its  mouth  ;  and  round 
this  pool  there  was  much  fresh  deer  sign.  The  coulie 
was  but  half  a  mile  long,  heading  into  and  flanked  by  the 
spurs  of  some  steep,  bare  hills.  Its  bottom,  which  was 
fifty  yards  or  so  across,  was  choked  by  a  dense  growth  of 
brush,  chiefly  thorny  bullberries,  while  the  sides  were 
formed  by  cut  banks  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  high.  My 
companion  rode  up  the  middle,  while  I  scrambled  up  one 
of  the  banks,  and,  dismounting,  led  my  horse  along  its 
edge,  that  I  might  have  a  clear  shot  at  whatever  we 
roused.  We  went  nearly  to  the  head,  and  then  the  cow- 
boy reined  up  and  shouted  to  me  that  he  "  guessed  there 
were  no  deer  in  the  coulie."  Instantly  there  was  a  smash- 
ing in  the  young  trees  midway  between  us,  and  I  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  blacktail  buck  speeding  round  a  shoulder 
of  the  cut  bank ;  and  though  I  took  a  hurried  shot  I 
missed.  However,  another  buck  promptly  jumped  up 
from  the  same  place ;  evidently  the  two  had  lain  secure 
in  their  day-beds,  shielded  by  the  dense  cover,  while  the 
cowboy  rode  by  them,  and  had  only  risen  when  he  halted 
and  began  to  call  to  me  across  them.  This  second  buck, 
a  fine  fellow  with  big  antlers  not  yet  clear  of  velvet, 
luckily  ran  up  the  opposite  bank  and  I  got  a  fair  shot  at 
him  as  he  galloped  broadside  to  me  along  the  open  hill- 
side. When  I  fired  he  rolled  over  with  a  broken  back. 
As  we  came  up  he  bleated  loudly,  an  unusual  thing  for  a 
buck  to  do. 

Now  these  two  bucks  must  have  heard  us  coming,  but 
reckoned  on  our  passing  them  by  without  seeing  them ; 
which  we  would  have  done  had  they  not  been  startled 


34  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

when  the  cowboy  halted  and  spoke.  Later  in  the  season 
they  would  probably  not  have  let  us  approach  them,  but 
would  have  run  as  soon  as  they  knew  of  our  presence. 
Of  course,  however,  even  later  in  the  season,  a  man  may 
by  chance  stumble  across  a  deer  close  by.  I  remember 
one  occasion  when  my  ranch  partner,  Robert  Munro  Fer- 
guson, and  I  almost  corralled  an  unlucky  deer  in  a  small 
washout. 

It  was  October,  and  our  meat  supply  unexpectedly  gave 
out ;  on  our  ranch,  as  on  most  ranches,  an  occasional 
meat  famine  of  three  or  four  days  intervenes  between  the 
periods  of  plenty.  So  Ferguson  and  I  started  together, 
to  get  venison  ;  and  at  the  end  of  two  days'  hard  work, 
leaving  the  ranch  by  sunrise,  riding  to  the  hunting  grounds 
and  tramping  steadily  until  dark,  we  succeeded.  The 
weather  was  stormy  and  there  were  continual  gusts  of 
wind  and  of  cold  rain,  sleet,  or  snow.  We  hunted  through 
a  large  tract  of  rough  and  broken  country,  six  or  eight 
miles  from  the  ranch.  As  often  happens  in  such  wild 
weather  the  deer  were  wild  too ;  they  were  watchful  and 
were  on  the  move  all  the  time.  We  saw  a  number,  but 
either  they  ran  off  before  we  could  get  a  shot,  or  if  we  did 
fire  it  was  at  such  a  distance  or  under  such  unfavorable 
circumstances  that  we  missed.  At  last,  as  we  were  plod- 
ding drearily  up  a  bare  valley,  the  sodden  mud  caking 
round  our  shoes,  we  roused  three  deer  from  the  mouth  of 
a  short  washout  but  a  few  paces  from  us.  Two  bounded 
off ;  the  third  by  mistake  rushed  into  the  washout,  where 
he  found  himself  in  a  regular  trap  and  was  promptly  shot 
by  my  companion.  We  slung  the  carcass  on  a  pole  and 


Hunting  from  the  Ranch.  35 

carried  it  down  to  where  we  had  left  the  horses  ;  and  then 
we  loped  homewards,  bending  to  the  cold  slanting  rain. 
Although  in  places  where  it  is  much  persecuted  the 
blacktail  is  a  shy  and  wary  beast,  the  successful  pursuit  of 
which  taxes  to  the  uttermost  the  skill  and  energy  of  the 
hunter,  yet,  like  the  elk,  if  little  molested  it  often  shows 
astonishing  tameness  and  even  stupidity.  In  the  Rockies 
I  have  sometimes  come  on  blacktail  within  a  very  short 
distance,  which  would  merely  stare  at  me,  then  trot  off  a 
few  yards,  turn  and  stare  again,  and  wait  for  several  min- 
utes before  really  taking  alarm.  What  is  much  more 
extraordinary  I  have  had  the  same  thing  happen  to  me  in 
certain  little  hunted  localities  in  the  neighborhood  of  my 
ranch,  even  of  recent  years.  In  the  fall  of  1890  I  was 
riding  down  a  canyon-coulie  with  my  foreman,  Sylvane 
Ferris,  and  a  young  friend  from  Boston,  when  we  almost 
rode  over  a  barren  blacktail  doe.  She  only  ran  some  fifty 
yards,  round  a  corner  of  the  coulie,  and  then  turned  and 
stood  until  we  ran  forward  and  killed  her— for  we  were 
in  need  of  fresh  meat.  One  October,  a  couple  of  years 
before  this,  my  cousin,  West  Roosevelt,  and  I  took  a  trip 
with  the  wagon  to  a  very  wild  and  rugged  country,  some 
twenty  miles  from  the  ranch.  We  found  that  the  deer 
had  evidently  been  but  little  disturbed.  One  day  while 
scrambling  down  a  steep,  brushy  hill,  leading  my  horse,  I 
came  close  on  a  doe  and  fawn  ;  they  merely  looked  at  me 
with  curiosity  for  some  time,  and  then  sauntered  slowly 
off,  remaining  within  shot  for  at  least  five  minutes.  For- 
tunately we  had  plenty  of  meat  at  the  time,  and  there  was 
no  necessity  to  harm  the  graceful  creatures.  A  few  days 


36  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

later  we  came  on  two  bucks  sunning  themselves  in  the 
bottom  of  a  valley.  My  companion  killed  one.  The 
other  was  lying  but  a  dozen  rods  off;  yet  it  never  moved, 
until  several  shots  had  been  fired  at  the  first.  It  was 
directly  under  me  and  in  my  anxiety  to  avoid  overshoot- 
ing, to  my  horror  I  committed  the  opposite  fault,  and 
away  went  the  buck. 

Every  now  and  then  any  one  will  make  most  unaccount- 
able misses.  A  few  days  after  thus  losing  the  buck  I 
spent  nearly  twenty  cartridges  in  butchering  an  unfortu- 
nate yearling,  and  only  killed  it  at  all  because  it  became 
so  bewildered  by  the  firing  that  it  hardly  tried  to  escape. 
I  never  could  tell  why  I  used  so  many  cartridges  to  such 
little  purpose.  During  the  next  fortnight  I  killed  seven 
deer  without  making  a  single  miss,  though  some  of  the 
shots  were  rather  difficult. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  WHITETAIL  DEER  ;  AND  THE  BLACKTAIL  OF 
THE  COLUMBIA. 

THE  whitetail  deer  is  much  the  commonest  game 
animal  of  the  United  States,  being  still  found, 
though  generally  in  greatly  diminished  numbers 
throughout  most  of  the  Union.  It  is  a  shrewd,  wary, 
knowing  beast ;  but  it  owes  its  prolonged  stay  in  the 
land  chiefly  to  the  fact  that  it  is  an  inveterate  skulker, 
and  fond  of  the  thickest  cover.  Accordingly  it  usually 
has  to  be  killed  by  stealth  and  stratagem,  and  not  by  fair, 
manly  hunting  ;  being  quite  easily  slain  in  any  one  of  half 
a  dozen  unsportsmanlike  ways.  In  consequence  I  care 
less  for  its  chase  than  for  the  chase  of  any  other  kind  of 
American  big  game.  Yet  in  the  few  places  where  it  dwells 
in  open,  hilly  forests  and  can  be  killed  by  still-hunting  as 
if  it  were  a  blacktail  ;  or  better  still,  where  the  nature  of 
the  ground  is  such  that  it  can  be  run  down  in  fair  chase 
on  horseback,  either  with  greyhounds,  or  with  a  pack  of 
trackhounds,  it  yields  splendid  sport. 

Killing  a  deer  from  a  boat  while   the  poor  animal  is 
swimming  in   the  water,  or  on  snow-shoes  as  it  flounders 

37 


38  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

helplessly  in  the  deep  drifts,  can  only  be  justified  on  the 
plea  of  hunger.  This  is  also  true  of  lying  in  wait  at  a 
lick.  Whoever  indulges  in  any  of  these  methods  save 
from  necessity,  is  a  butcher,  pure  and  simple,  and  has  no 
business  in  the  company  of  true  sportsmen. 

Fire  hunting  may  be  placed  in  the  same  category  ;  yet 
it  is  possibly  allowable  under  exceptional  circumstances 
to  indulge  in  a  fire  hunt,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  seeing  the 
wilderness  by  torch-light.  My  first  attempt  at  big-game 
shooting,  when  a  boy,  was  "jacking  "  for  deer  in  the  Adi- 
rondacks,  on  a  pond  or  small  lake  surrounded  by  the 
grand  northern  forests  of  birch  and  beech,  pine,  spruce, 
and  fir.  I  killed  a  spike  buck ;  and  while  I  have  never 
been  willing  to  kill  another  in  this  manner,  I  cannot  say 
that  I  regret  having  once  had  the  experience.  The  ride 
over  the  glassy,  black  water,  the  witchcraft  of  such  silent 
progress  through  the  mystery  of  the  night,  cannot  but 
impress  one.  There  is  pleasure  in  the  mere  buoyant 
gliding  of  the  birch-bark  canoe,  with  its  curved  bow  and 
stern  ;  nothing  else  that  floats  possesses  such  grace,  such 
frail  and  delicate  beauty,  as  this  true  craft  of  the  wilder- 
ness, which  is  as  much  a  creature  of  the  wild  woods  as 
the  deer  and  bear  themselves.  The  light  streaming  from 
the  bark  lantern  in  the  bow  cuts  a  glaring  lane  through 
the  gloom  ;  in  it  all  objects  stand  out  like  magic,  shining 
for  a  moment  white  and  ghastly  and  then  vanishing  into 
the  impenetrable  darkness  ;  while  all  the  time  the  paddler 
in  the  stern  makes  not  so  much  as  a  ripple,  and  there  is 
never  a  sound  but  the  occasional  splash  of  a  muskrat, 
or  the  moaning  uloo-oo — uloo-uloo  of  an  owl  from  the 


The  Whitetail  Deer.  39 

deep  forests ;  and  at  last  perchance  the  excitement  of 
a  shot  at  a  buck,  standing  at  gaze,  with  luminous  eye- 
balls. 

The  most  common  method  of  killing  the  whitetail  is 
by  hounding ;  that  is,  by  driving  it  with  hounds  past  run- 
ways where  hunters  are  stationed — for  all  wild  animals 
when  on  the  move  prefer  to  follow  certain  definite  routes. 
This  is  a  legitimate,  but  inferior,  kind  of  sport. 

However,  even  killing  driven  deer  may  be  good  fun  at 
certain  times.  Most  of  the  whitetail  we  kill  round  the 
ranch  are  obtained  in  this  fashion.  On  the  Little  Missouri 
—as  throughout  the  plains  country  generally — these  deer 
cling  to  the  big  wooded  river  bottoms,  while  the  blacktail 
are  found  in  the  broken  country  back  from  the  river.  The 
tangled  mass  of  cottonwoods,  box-alders,  and  thorny  bull- 
berry  bushes  which  cover  the  bottoms  afford  the  deer  a 
nearly  secure  shelter  from  the  still-hunter  ;  and  it  is  only 
by  the  aid  of  hounds  that  they  can  be  driven  from  their 
wooded  fastnesses.  They  hold  their  own  better  than  any 
other  game.  The  great  herds  of  buffalo,  and  the  bands 
of  elk,  have  vanished  completely  ;  the  swarms  of  antelope 
and  blacktail  have  been  wofully  thinned  ;  but  the  white- 
tail,  which  were  never  found  in  such  throngs  as  either 
buffalo  or  elk,  blacktail  or  antelope,  have  suffered  far  less 
from  the  advent  of  the  white  hunters,  ranchmen,  and  set- 
tlers. They  are  of  course  not  as  plentiful  as  formerly ;  but 
some  are  still  to  be  found  in  almost  all  their  old  haunts. 
Where  the  river,  winding  between  rows  of  high  buttes, 
passes  my  ranch  house,  there  is  a  long  succession  of 
heavily  wooded  bottoms  ;  and  on  all  of  these,  even  on  the 


40  TJie  Wilderness  Hunter. 

one  whereon  the  house  itself  stands,  there  are  a  good  many 
whitetail  yet  left. 

When  we  take  a  day's  regular  hunt  we  usually  wander 
afar,  either  to  the  hills  after  blacktail  or  to  the  open  prairie 
after  antelope.  But  if  we  are  short  of  meat,  and  yet  have 
no  time  for  a  regular  hunt,  being  perhaps  able  to  spare 
only  a  couple  of  hours  after  the  day's  work  is  over,  then  all 
hands  turn  out  to  drive  a  bottom  forwhitetail.  We  usually 
have  one  or  two  trackhounds  at  the  ranch  ;  true  southern 
deer-hounds,  black  and  tan,  with  lop  ears  and  hanging  lips, 
their  wrinkled  faces  stamped  with  an  expression  of  almost 
ludicrous  melancholy.  They  are  not  fast,  and  have  none 
of  the  alert  look  of  the  pied  and  spotted  modern  foxhound  ; 
but  their  noses  are  very  keen,  their  voices  deep  and  mel- 
low, and  they  are  wonderfully  staunch  on  a  trail. 

All  is  bustle  and  laughter  as  we  start  on  such  a  hunt. 
The  baying  hounds  bound  about,  as  the  rifles  are  taken 
down  ;  the  wiry  ponies  are  roped  out  of  the  corral,  and  each 
broad-hatted  hunter  swings  joyfully  into  the  saddle.  If 
the  pony  bucks  or  "  acts  mean  "  the  rider  finds  that  his  rifle 
adds  a  new  element  of  interest  to  the  performance,  which 
is  of  course  hailed  with  loud  delight  by  all  the  men  on  quiet 
horses.  Then  we  splash  off  over  the  river,  scramble  across 
the  faces  of  the  bluffs,  or  canter  along  the  winding  cattle 
paths,  through  the  woods,  until  we  come  to  the  bottom  we 
intend  to  hunt.  Here  a  hunter  is  stationed  at  each  runway 
along  which  it  is  deemed  likely  that  the  deer  will  pass  ;  and 
one  man,  who  has  remained  on  horseback,  starts  into  the 
cover  with  the  hounds  ;  occasionally  this  horseman  himself, 
skilled,  as  most  cowboys  are,  in  the  use  of  the  revolver, 


The  IV hit et ail  Deer.  41 

gets  a  chance  to  kill  a  deer.  The  deep  baying  of  the 
hounds  speedily  gives  warning  that  the  game  is  afoot ;  and 
the  watching  hunters,  who  have  already  hid  their  horses 
carefully,  look  to  their  rifles.  Sometimes  the  deer  comes 
far  ahead  of  the  dogs,  running  very  swiftly  with  neck 
stretched  straight  out ;  and  if  the  cover  is  thick  such  an 
animal  is  hard  to  hit.  At  other  times,  especially  if  the 
quarry  is  a  young  buck,  it  plays  along  not  very  far  ahead 
of  its  baying  pursuers,  bounding  and  strutting  with  head  up 
and  white  flag  flaunting.  If  struck  hard,  down  goes  the 
flag  at  once,  and  the  deer  plunges  into  a  staggering 
run,  while  the  hounds  yell  with  eager  ferocity  as  they  follow 
the  bloody  trail.  Usually  we  do  not  have  to  drive  more 
than  one  or  two  bottoms  before  getting  a  deer,  which  is 
forthwith  packed  behind  one  of  the  riders,  as  the  distance 
is  not  great,  and  home  we  come  in  triumph.  Sometimes, 
however,  we  fail  to  find  game,  or  the  deer  take  unguarded 
passes,  or  the  shot  is  missed.  Occasionally  I  have  killed 
deer  on  these  hunts ;  generally  I  have  merely  sat  still  a 
long  while,  listened  to  the  hounds,  and  at  last  heard  some- 
body else  shoot.  In  fact  such  hunting,  though  good  enough 
fun  if  only  tried  rarely,  would  speedily  pall  if  followed  at 
all  regularly. 

Personally  the  chief  excitement  I  have  had  in  connection 
therewith  has  arisen  from  some  antic  of  my  horse  ;  a  half- 
broken  bronco  is  apt  to  become  unnerved  when  a  man  with 
a  gun  tries  to  climb  on  him  in  a  hurry.  On  one  hunt  in  1890 
I  rode  a  wild  animal  named  Whitefoot.  He  had  been  a  con* 
firmed  and  very  bad  bucker  three  years  before,  when  I  had 
him  in  my  string  on  the  round-up ;  but  had  grown  quieter 


42  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

with  years.  Nevertheless  I  found  he  had  some  fire  left ; 
for  a  hasty  vault  into  the  saddle  on  my  part,  was  followed 
on  his  by  some  very  resolute  pitching.  I  lost  my  rifle  and 
hat,  and  my  revolver  and  knife  were  bucked  out  of  my 
belt ;  but  I  kept  my  seat  all  right,  and  finally  got  his  head 
up  and  mastered  him  without  letting  him  throw  himself 
over  backwards,  a  trick  he  sometimes  practised.  Never- 
theless, in  the  first  jump  when  I  was  taken  unawares,  I 
strained  myself  across  the  loins,  and  did  not  get  entirely 
over  it  for  six  months. 

To  shoot  running  game  with  the  rifle  it  is  always 
necessary  to  be  a  good  and  quick  marksman  ;  for  it  is  never 
easy  to  kill  an  animal,  when  in  rapid  motion,  with  a  single 
bullet.  If  on  a  runway  a  man  who  is  a  fairly  skilful  rifle- 
man, has  plenty  of  time  for  a  clear  shot,  on  open  ground, 
at  comparatively  short  distance,  say  under  eighty  yards, 
and  if  the  deer  is  cantering,  he  ought  to  hit ;  at  least  I 
generally  do  under  such  circumstances,  by  remembering  to 
hold  well  forward,  in  fact  just  in  front  of  the  deer's  chest. 
But  I  do  not  always  kill  by  any  means  ;  quite  often  when  I 
thought  I  held  far  enough  ahead,  my  bullet  has  gone  into 
the  buck's  hips  or  loins.  However,  one  great  feature  in 
the  use  of  dogs  is  that  they  enable  one  almost  always  to 
recover  wounded  game. 

If  the  animal  is  running  at  full  speed  a  long  distance 
off,  the  difficulty  of  hitting  is  of  course  very  much  in- 
creased ;  and  if  the  country  is  open  the  value  of  a  repeat- 
ing rifle  is  then  felt.  If  the  game  is  bounding  over  logs 
or  dodging  through  underbrush,  the  difficulty  is  again 
increased.  Moreover,  the  natural  gait  of  the  different 


The  Whitetail  Deer.  43 

kinds  of  game  must  be  taken  into  account.  Of  course 
the  larger  kinds,  such  as  elk  and  moose,  are  the  easiest  to 
hit ;  then  comes  the  antelope,  in  spite  of  its  swiftness,  and 
the  sheep,  because  of  the  evenness  of  their  running ;  then 
the  whitetail,  with  its  rolling  gallop  ;  and  last  and  hardest 
of  all,  the  blacktail,  because  of  its  extraordinary  stiff- 
legged  bounds. 

Sometimes  on  a  runway  the  difficulty  is  not  that  the 
game  is  too  far,  but  that  it  is  too  close  ;  for  a  deer  may 
actually  almost  jump  on  the  hunter,  surprising  him  out  of 
all  accuracy  of  aim.  Once  something  of  the  sort  happened 
to  me. 

Winter  was  just  beginning.  I  had  been  off  with  the 
ranch  wagon  on  a  last  round-up  of  the  beef  steers  ;  and 
had  suffered  a  good  deal,  as  one  always  does  on  these 
cold  weather  round-ups,  sleeping  out  in  the  snow,  wrapped 
up  in  blankets  and  tarpaulin,  with  no  tent  and  generally 
no  fire.  Moreover,  I  became  so  weary  of  the  intermi- 
nable length  of  the  nights,  that  I  almost  ceased  to  mind 
the  freezing  misery  of  standing  night  guard  round  the 
restless  cattle  ;  while  roping,  saddling,  and  mastering  the 
rough  horses  each  morning,  with  numbed  and  stiffened 
limbs,  though  warming  to  the  blood  was  harrowing  to 
the  temper. 

On  my  return  to  the  ranch  I  found  a  strange  hunter 
staying  there  ;  a  clean,  square-built,  honest-looking  little 
fellow,  but  evidently  not  a  native  American.  As  a  rule, 
nobody  displays  much  curiosity  about  any  one's  else  ante- 
cedents in  the  Far  West ;  but  I  happened  to  ask  my  fore- 
man who  the  new-comer  was, — chiefly  because  the  said 


44  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

new-comer,  evidently  appreciating  the  warmth  and  comfort 
of  the  clean,  roomy,  ranch  house,  with  its  roaring  fires, 
books,  and  good  fare,  seemed  inclined  to  make  a  per- 
manent stay,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country. 
My  foreman,  who  had  a  large  way  of  looking  at  questions 
of  foreign  ethnology  and  geography,  responded  with 
indifference:  "Oh,  he's  a  kind  of  a  Dutchman;  but  he 
hates  the  other  Dutch,  mortal.  He's  from  an  island 
Germany  took  from  France  in  the  last  war ! "  This 
seemed  puzzling ;  but  it  turned  out  that  the  "  island  "  in 
question  was  Alsace.  Native  Americans  predominate 
among  the  dwellers  in  and  on  the  borders  of  the  wilder- 
ness, and  in  the  wild  country  over  which  the  great  herds 
of  the  cattle-men  roam  ;  and  they  take  the  lead  in  every 
way.  The  sons  of  the  Germans,  Irish,  and  other  Euro- 
pean new-comers  are  usually  quick  to  claim  to  be  "  straight 
United  States,"  and  to  disavow  all  kinship  with  the  fellow- 
countrymen  of  their  fathers.  Once,  while  with  a  hunter 
bearing  a  German  name,  we  came  by  chance  on  a  German 
hunting  party  from  one  of  the  eastern  cities.  One  of 
them  remarked  to  my  companion  that  he  must  be  part 
German  himself,  to  which  he  cheerfully  answered  :  "  Well, 
my  father  was  a  Dutchman,  but  my  mother  was  a  white 
woman  !  I  'm  pretty  white  myself  !  "  whereat  the  Germans 
glowered  at  him  gloomily. 

As  we  were  out  of  meat  the  Alsatian  and  one  of  the 
cowboys  and  I  started  down  the  river  with  a  wagon.  The 
first  day  in  camp  it  rained  hard,  so  that  we  could  not  hunt. 
Towards  evening  we  grew  tired  of  doing  nothing,  and  as 
the  rain  had  become  a  mere  fine  drizzle,  we  sallied  out  to 


The  IVhitetail  Deer.  45 

drive  one  of  the  bottoms  for  whitetail.  The  cowboy  and 
our  one  trackhound  plunged  into  the  young  cottonwood, 
which  grew  thickly  over  the  sandy  bottom ;  while  the 
little  hunter  and  I  took  our  stands  on  a  cut  bank, 
twenty  feet  high  and  half  a  mile  long,  which  hedged 
in  the  trees  from  behind.  Three  or  four  game  trails 
led  up  through  steep,  narrow  clefts  in  this  bank ;  and 
we  tried  to  watch  these.  Soon  I  saw  a  deer  in  an  open- 
ing below,  headed  towards  one  end  of  the  bank,  round 
which  another  game  trail  led  ;  and  I  ran  hard  towards  this 
end,  where  it  turned  into  a  knife-like  ridge  of  clay.  About 
fifty  yards  from  the  point  there  must  have  been  some 
slight  irregularities  in  the  face  of  the  bank,  enough  to  give 
the  deer  a  foothold ;  for  as  I  ran  along  the  animal  sud- 
denly bounced  over  the  crest,  so  close  that  I  could  have 
hit  it  with  my  right  hand.  As  I  tried  to  pull  up  short  and 
swing  round,  my  feet  slipped  from  under  me  in  the  wet 
clay,  and  down  I  went ;  while  the  deer  literally  turned  a 
terrified  somersault  backwards.  I  flung  myself  to  the 
edge  and  missed  a  hurried  shot  as  it  raced  back  on  its 
tracks.  Then,  wheeling,  I  saw  the  little  hunter  running 
towards  me  along  the  top  of  the  cut  bank,  his  face  on  a 
broad  grin.  He  leaped  over  one  of  the  narrow  clefts,  up 
which  a  game  trail  led ;  and  hardly  was  he  across  before 
the  frightened  deer  bolted  up  it,  not  three  yards  from  his 
back.  He  did  not  turn,  in  spite  of  my  shouting  and 
handwaving,  and  the  frightened  deer,  in  the  last  stage  of 
panic  at  finding  itself  again  almost  touching  one  of  its 
foes,  sped  off  across  the  grassy  slopes  like  a  quarter  horse. 
When  at  last  the  hunter  did  turn,  it  was  too  late  ;  and  our 


46  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

long-range  fusillade  proved  harmless.  During  the  next 
two  days  I  redeemed  myself,  killing  four  deer. 

Coming  back  our  wagon  broke  down,  no  unusual 
incident  in  ranch-land,  where  there  is  often  no  road,  while 
the  strain  is  great  in  hauling  through  quicksands,  and  up 
or  across  steep  broken  hills ;  it  rarely  makes  much  differ- 
ence beyond  the  temporary  delay,  for  plains-men  and 
mountain-men  are  very  handy  and  self-helpful.  Besides, 
a  mere  break-down  sinks  into  nothing  compared  to  having 
the  team  play  out ;  which  is,  of  course,  most  apt  to  happen 
at  the  times  when  it  insures  hardship  and  suffering,  as  in 
the  middle  of  a  snowstorm,  or  when  crossing  a  region 
with  no  water.  However,  the  reinsmen  of  the  plains 
must  needs  face  many  such  accidents,  not  to  speak  of 
runaways,  or  having  the  wagon  pitchpole  over  on  to  the 
team  in  dropping  down  too  steep  a  hillside.  Once  after  a 
three  days'  rainstorm  some  of  us  tried  to  get  the  ranch 
wagon  along  a  trail  which  led  over  the  ridge  of  a  gumbo 
or  clay  butte.  The  sticky  stuff  clogged  our  shoes,  the 
horses'  hoofs,  and  the  wheels ;  and  it  was  even  more 
slippery  than  it  was  sticky.  Finally  we  struck  a  sloping 
shoulder;  with  great  struggling,  pulling,  pushing,  and 
shouting,  we  reached  the  middle  of  it,  and  then,  as  one  of 
my  men  remarked,  "the  whole  darned  outfit  slid  into  the 
coulie." 

These  hunting  trips  after  deer  or  antelope  with  the 
wagon  usually  take  four  or  five  days.  I  always  ride  some 
tried  hunting  horse ;  and  the  wagon  itself  when  on  such 
a  hunt  is  apt  to  lead  a  chequered  career,  as  half  the  time 
there  is  not  the  vestige  of  a  trail  to  follow.  Moreover 


The  Whitetail  Deer.  47 

we  often  make  a  hunt  when  the  good  horses  are  on  the 
round-up,  or  otherwise  employed,  and  we  have  to  get  to- 
gether a  scrub  team  of  cripples  or  else  of  outlaws — vicious 
devils,  only  used  from  dire  need.  The  best  teamster  for 
such  a  hunt  that  we  ever  had  on  the  ranch  was  a  weather- 
beaten  old  fellow  known  as  "  Old  Man  Tompkins."  In  the 
course  of  a  long  career  as  lumberman,  plains  teamster, 
buffalo  hunter,  and  Indian  fighter,  he  had  passed  several 
years  as  a  Rocky  Mountain  stage  driver ;  and  a  stage 
driver  of  the  Rockies  is  of  necessity  a  man  of  such  skill 
and  nerve  that  he  fears  no  team  and  no  country.  No 
matter  how  wild  the  unbroken  horses,  Old  Tompkins  never 
asked  help  ;  and  he  hated  to  drive  less  than  a  four-in-hand. 
When  he  once  had  a  grip  on  the  reins,  he  let  no  one  hold 
the  horses'  heads.  All  he  wished  was  an  open  plain  foi 
the  rush  at  the  beginning.  The  first  plunge  might  take 
the  wheelers'  fore-feet  over  the  cross-bars  of  the  leaders, 
but  he  never  stopped  for  that ;  on  went  the  team,  run- 
ning, bounding,  rearing,  tumbling,  while  the  wagon 
leaped  behind,  until  gradually  things  straightened  out  of 
their  own  accord.  I  soon  found,  however,  that  I  could 
not  allow  him  to  carry  a  rifle  ;  for  he  was  an  inveterate 
game  butcher.  In  the  presence  of  game  the  old  fellow 
became  fairly  wild  with  excitement,  and  forgot  the  years 
and  rheumatism  which  had  crippled  him.  Once,  after  a 
long  and  tiresome  day's  hunt,  we  were  walking  home  to- 
gether ;  he  was  carrying  his  boots  in  his  hands,  bemoan- 
ing the  fact  that  his  feet  hurt  him.  Suddenly  a  whitetail 
jumped  up  ;  down  dropped  Old  Tompkins'  boots,  and 
away  he  went  like  a  college  sprinter,  entirely  heedless  of 


48  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

stones  and  cactus.  By  some  indiscriminate  firing  at 
long  range  we  dropped  the  deer ;  and  as  Old  Tompkins 
cooled  down  he  realized  that  his  bare  feet  had  paid  full 
penalty  for  his  dash. 

One  of  these  wagon  trips  I  remember  because  I 
missed  a  fair  running  shot  which  I  much  desired  to  hit ; 
and  afterwards  hit  a  very  much  more  difficult  shot  about 
which  I  cared  very  little.  Ferguson  and  I,  with  Sylvane 
and  one  or  two  others,  had  gone  a  day's  journey  down 
the  river  for  a  hunt.  We  went  along  the  bottoms,  cross- 
ing the  stream  every  mile  or  so,  with  an  occasional 
struggle  through  mud  or  quicksand,  or  up  the  steep,  rot- 
ten banks.  An  old  buffalo  hunter  drove  the  wagon,  with 
a  couple  of  shaggy,  bandy-legged  ponies  ;  the  rest  of  us 
jogged  along  in  front  on  horseback,  picking  out  a  trail 
through  the  bottoms  and  choosing  the  best  crossing 
places.  Some  of  the  bottoms  were  grassy  pastures ;  on 
others  great,  gnarled  cottonwoods,  with  shivered  branches, 
stood  in  clumps  ;  yet  others  were  choked  with  a  true  for- 
est growth.  Late  in  the  afternoon  we  went  into  camp, 
choosing  a  spot  where  the  cottonwoods  were  young ;  their 
glossy  leaves  trembled  and  rustled  unceasingly.  We 
speedily  picketed  the  horses — changing  them  about  as 
they  ate  off  the  grass, — drew  water,  and  hauled  great  logs 
in  front  of  where  we  had  pitched  the  tent,  while  the  wagon 
stood  nearby.  Each  man  laid  out  his  bed  ;  the  food  and 
kitchen  kit  were  taken  from  the  wagon  ;  supper  was 
cooked  and  eaten  ;  and  we  then  lay  round  the  camp-fire, 
gazing  into  it,  or  up  at  the  brilliant  stars,  and  listening  to 
the  wild,  mournful  wailing  of  the  coyotes.  They  were 


The  Whitetail  Deer.  49 

very  plentiful  round  this  camp ;  before  sunrise  and  after 
sundown  they  called  unceasingly. 

Next  day  I  took  a  long  tramp  and  climb  after 
mountain  sheep  and  missed  a  running  shot  at  a  fine  ram, 
about  a  hundred  yards  off ;  or  rather  I  hit  him  and  followed 
his  bloody  trail  a  couple  of  miles,  but  failed  to  find  him  ; 
whereat  I  returned  to  camp  much  cast  down. 

Early  the  following  morning  Sylvane  and  I  started  for 
another  hunt,  this  time  on  horseback.  The  air  was  crisp 
and  pleasant ;  the  beams  of  the  just-risen  sun  struck 
sharply  on  the  umber-colored  hills  and  white  cliff  walls 
guarding  the  river,  bringing  into  high  relief  their  strangely 
carved  and  channelled  fronts.  Below  camp  the  river  was 
little  but  a  succession  of  shallow  pools  strung  along  the 
broad  sandy  bed  which  in  spring-time  was  filled  from 
bank  to  bank  with  foaming  muddy  water.  Two  mallards 
sat  in  one  of  these  pools  ;  and  I  hit  one  with  the  rifle,  so 
nearly  missing  that  the  ball  scarcely  ruffled  a  feather  ;  yet 
in  some  way  the  shock  told,  for  the  bird  after  flying 
thirty  yards  dropped  on  the  sand. 

Then  we  left  the  river  and  our  active  ponies  scrambled 
up  a  small  canyon-like  break  in  the  bluffs.  All  day  we 
rode  among  the  hills  ;  sometimes  across  rounded  slopes, 
matted  with  short  buffalo  grass  ;  sometimes  over  barren 
buttes  of  red  or  white  clay,  where  only  sage  brush  and 
cactus  grew ;  or  beside  deep  ravines,  black  with  stunted 
cedar  ;  or  along  beautiful  winding  coulies,  where  the  grass 
grew  rankly,  and  the  thickets  of  ash  and  wild  plum  made 
brilliant  splashes  of  red  and  yellow  and  tender  green. 
Yet  we  saw  nothing. 


50  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

As  evening  drew  on  we  rode  riverwards  ;  we  slid  down 
the  steep  bluff  walls,  and  loped  across  a  great  bottom  of 
sage  brush  and  tall  grass,  our  horses  now  and  then  leap- 
ing like  cats  over  the  trunks  of  dead  cottonwoods.  As 
we  came  to  the  brink  of  the  cut  bank  which  forms  the 
hither  boundary  of  the  river  in  freshet  time,  we  suddenly 
saw  two  deer,  a  doe  and  a  well  grown  fawn — of  course 
long  out  of  the  spotted  coat.  They  were  walking  with 
heads  down  along  the  edge  of  a  sand-bar,  near  a  pool,  on 
the  farther  side  of  the  stream  bed,  over  two  hundred 
yards  distant.  They  saw  us  at  once,  and  turning,  galloped 
away,  with  flags  aloft,  the  pictures  of  springing,  vigorous 
beauty.  I  jumped  off  my  horse  in  an  instant,  knelt,  and 
covered  the  fawn.  It  was  going  straight  away  from  me, 
running  very  evenly,  and  I  drew  a  coarse  sight  at  the  tip 
of  the  white  flag.  As  I  pulled  trigger  down  went  the 
deer,  the  ball  having  gone  into  the  back  of  its  head.  The 
distance  was  a  good  three  hundred  yards ;  and  while  of 
course  there  was  much  more  chance  than  skill  in  the  shot 
I  felt  well  pleased  with  it — though  I  could  not  help  a  re- 
gret that  while  making  such  a  difficult  shot  at  a  mere 
whitetail  I  should  have  missed  a  much  easier  shot  at  a 
noble  bighorn.  Not  only  I,  but  all  the  camp,  had  a  prac- 
tical interest  in  my  success  ;  for  we  had  no  fresh  meat, 
and  a  fat  whitetail  fawn,  killed  in  October,  yields  the  best 
of  venison.  So  after  dressing  the  deer  I  slung  the  carcass 
behind  my  saddle,  and  we  rode  swiftly  back  to  camp 
through  the  dark ;  and  that  evening  we  feasted  on  the 
juicy  roasted  ribs. 


The  Whitetail  Deer.  51 

The  degree  of  tameness  and  unsuspiciousness  shown 
by  whitetail  deer  depends,  of  course,  upon  the  amount  of 
molestation  to  which  they  are  exposed.  Their  times  for 
sleeping,  feeding,  and  coming  to  water  vary  from  the 
same  cause.  Where  they  are  little  persecuted  they  feed 
long  after  sunrise  and  before  sunset,  and  drink  when  the 
sun  is  high  in  the  heavens,  sometimes  even  at  midday ; 
they  then  show  but  little  fear  of  man,  and  speedily  become 
indifferent  to  the  presence  of  deserted  dwellings. 

In  the  cattle  country  the  ranch  houses  are  often  shut 
during  the  months  of  warm  weather,  when  the  round-ups 
succeed  one  another  without  intermission,  as  the  calves  must 
be  branded,  the  beeves  gathered  and  shipped,  long  trips 
made  to  collect  strayed  animals,  and  the  trail  stock  driven 
from  the  breeding  to  the  fattening  grounds.  At  that  time 
all  the  men-folk  may  have  to  be  away  in  the  white-topped 
wagons,  working  among  the  horned  herds,  whether  plod- 
ding along  the  trail,  or  wandering  to  and  fro  on  the  range. 
Late  one  summer,  when  my  own  house  had  been  thus 
closed  for  many  months,  I  rode  thither  with  a  friend  to 
pass  a  week.  The  place  already  wore  the  look  of  having 
slipped  away  from  the  domain  of  man.  The  wild  forces, 
barely  thrust  back  beyond  the  threshold  of  our  habitation, 
were  prompt  to  spring  across  it  to  renewed  possession  the 
moment  we  withdrew.  The  rank  grass  grew  tall  in  the 
yard,  and  on  the  sodded  roofs  of  the  stable  and  sheds ; 
the  weather-beaten  log  walls  of  the  house  itself  were^We 
in  tint  with  the  trunks  of  the  gnarled  cottonwoods  by 
which  it  was  shaded.  Evidently  the  woodland  creatures 


52  The  Wilderness  Hunter, 

had  come  to  regard  the  silent,  deserted  buildings  as  mere 
outgrowths  of  the  wilderness,  no  more  to  be  feared  than 
the  trees  around  them  or  the  gray,  strangely  shaped  buttes 
behind. 

Lines  of  delicate,  heart-shaped  footprints  in  the  muddy 
reaches  of  the  half-dry  river-bed  showed  where  the  deer 
came  to  water ;  and  in  the  dusty  cattle-trails  among  the 
ravines  many  round  tracks  betrayed  the  passing  and  re- 
passing  of  timber  wolves, — once  or  twice  in  the  late  even- 
ing we  listened  to  their  savage  and  melancholy  howling. 
Cotton-tail  rabbits  burrowed  under  the  verandah.  Within 
doors  the  bushy-tailed  pack-rats  had  possession,  and  at 
night  they  held  a  perfect  witches'  sabbath  in  the  garret  and 
kitchen  ;  while  a  little  white-footed  mouse,  having  dragged 
half  the  stuffing  out  of  a  mattress,  had  made  thereof  a  big 
fluffy  nest,  entirely  filling  the  oven. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  the  abundant  sign  of  game,  we  at  first 
suffered  under  one  of  those  spells  of  ill-luck  which  at  times 
befall  all  hunters,  and  for  several  days  we  could  kill  noth- 
ing, though  we  tried  hard,  being  in  need  of  fresh  meat. 
The  moon  was  full — each  evening,  sitting  on  the  ranch 
verandah,  or  walking  homeward,  we  watched  it  rise  over 
the  line  of  bluffs  beyond  the  river — and  the  deer  were  feed- 
ing at  night ;  moreover  in  such  hot  weather  they  lie  very 
close,  move  as  little  as  possible,  and  are  most  difficult  to 
find.  Twice  we  lay  out  from  dusk  until  dawn,  in  spite  of 
the  mosquitoes,  but  saw  nothing ;  and  the  chances  we  did 
get  we  failed  to  profit  by. 

One  morning,  instead  of  trudging  out  to  hunt  I  stayed 
at  home,  and  sat  in  a  rocking-chair  on  the  verandah  read- 


The  Whitetail  Deer.  53 

ing,  rocking,  or  just  sitting  still  listening  to  the  low  rustling 
of  the  cottonwood  branches  overhead,  and  gazing  across 
the  river.  Through  the  still,  clear,  hot  air,  the  faces  of 
the  bluffs  shone  dazzling  white  ;  no  shadow  fell  from  the 
cloudless  sky  on  the  grassy  slopes,  or  on  the  groves  of 
timber  ;  only  the  faraway  cooing  of  a  mourning  dove  broke 
the  silence.  Suddenly  my  attention  was  arrested  by  a 
slight  splashing  in  the  water ;  glancing  up  from  my  book 
I  saw  three  deer,  which  had  come  out  of  the  thick  fringe 
of  bushes  and  young  trees  across  the  river,  and  were 
strolling  along  the  sand-bars  directly  opposite  me.  Slip- 
ping stealthily  into  the  house  I  picked  up  my  rifle,  and 
slipped  back  again.  One  of  the  deer  was  standing  motion- 
less, broadside  to  me  ;  it  was  a  long  shot,  two  hundred 
and  fifty  yards,  but  I  had  a  rest  against  a  pillar  of  the 
verandah.  I  held  true,  and  as  the  smoke  cleared  away 
the  deer  lay  struggling  on  the  sands. 

As  the  whitetail  is  the  most  common  and  widely  dis- 
tributed of  American  game,  so  the  Columbian  blacktail 
has  the  most  sharply  limited  geographical  range ;  for  it  is 
confined  to  the  northwest  coast,  where  it  is  by  far  the  most 
abundant  deer.  In  antlers  it  is  indistinguishable  from  the 
common  blacktail  of  the  Rockies  and  the  great  plains,  and 
it  has  the  regular  blacktail  gait,  a  succession  of  stiff-legged 
bounds  on  all  four  feet  at  once ;  but  its  tail  is  more  like 
a  whitetail's  in  shape,  though  black  above.  As  regards 
methods  of  hunting,  and  the  amount  of  sport  yielded,  it 
stands  midway  between  its  two  brethren.  It  lives  in  a 
land  of  magnificent  timber,  where  the  trees  tower  far  into 


54  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

the  sky,  the  giants  of  their  kind  ;  and  there  are  few  more 
attractive  sports  than  still-hunting  on  the  mountains,  among 
these  forests  of  marvellous  beauty  and  grandeur.  There 
are  many  lakes  among  the  mountains  where  it  dwells,  and 
as  it  cares  more  for  water  than  the  ordinary  blacktail,  it  is 
comparatively  easy  for  hounds  to  drive  it  into  some  pond 
where  it  can  be  killed  at  leisure.  It  is  thus  often  killed 
by  hounding. 

The  only  one  I  ever  killed  was  a  fine  young  buck.  We 
had  camped  near  a  little  pond,  and  as  evening  fell  I  strolled 
off  towards  it  and  sat  down.  Just  after  sunset  the  buck 
came  out  of  the  woods.  For  some  moments  he  hesitated 
and  then  walked  forward  and  stood  by  the  edge  of  the 
water,  about  sixty  yards  from  me.  We  were  out  of  meat, 
so  I  held  right  behind  his  shoulder,  and  though  he  went 
off,  his  bounds  were  short  and  weak,  and  he  fell  before  he 
reached  the  wood. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

ON  THE  CATTLE  RANGES  ;  THE  PRONG-HORN  ANTELOPE. 

EARLY  one  June  just  after  the  close  of  the  regular 
spring  round-up,  a  couple  of  wagons,  with  a  score 
of  riders  between  them,  were  sent  to  work  some 
hitherto  untouched  country,  between  the  Little  Missouri 
and  the  Yellowstone.  I  was  to  go  as  the  representative 
of  our  own  and  of  one  or  two  neighboring  brands ;  but 
as  the  round-up  had  halted  near  my  ranch  I  determined 
to  spend  a  day  there,  and  then  to  join  the  wagons ; — the 
appointed  meeting-place  being  a  cluster  of  red  scoria 
buttes,  some  forty  miles  distant,  where  there  was  a  spring 
of  good  water. 

Most  of  my  day  at  the  ranch  was  spent  in  slumber ; 
for  I  had  been  several  weeks  on  the  round-up,  where  no- 
body ever  gets  quite  enough  sleep.  This  is  the  only 
drawback  to  the  work ;  otherwise  it  is  pleasant  and  excit- 
ing, with  just  that  slight  touch  of  danger  necessary  to 
give  it  zest,  and  without  the  wearing  fatigue  of  such  labor 
as  lumbering  or  mining.  But  there  is  never  enough  sleep, 
at  least  on  the  spring  and  mid-summer  round-ups.  The 
men  are  in  the  saddle  from  dawn  until  dusk,  at  the  time 

55 


56  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

when  the  days  are  longest  on  these  great  northern  plains; 
and  in  addition  there  is  the  regular  night  guarding  and 
now  and  then  a  furious  storm  or  a  stampede,  when  for 
twenty-four  hours  at  a  stretch  the  riders  only  dismount  to 
change  horses  or  snatch  a  mouthful  of  food. 

I  started  in  the  bright  sunrise,  riding  one  horse  and 
driving  loose  before  me  eight  others,  one  carrying  my 
bedding.  They  travelled  strung  out  in  single  file.  I  kept 
them  trotting  and  loping,  for  loose  horses  are  easiest  to 
handle  when  driven  at  some  speed,  and  moreover  the  way 
was  long.  My  rifle  was  slung  under  my  thigh  ;  the  lariat 
was  looped  on  the  saddle-horn. 

At  first  our  trail  led  through  winding  coulies,  and 
sharp  grassy  defiles  ;  the  air  was  wonderfully  clear,  the 
flowers  were  in  bloom,  the  breath  of  the  wind  in  my  face 
was  odorous  and  sweet.  The  patter  and  beat  of  the  un- 
shod hoofs,  rising  in  half-rhythmic  measure,  frightened 
the  scudding  deer  ;  but  the  yellow-breasted  meadow  larks, 
perched  on  the  budding  tops  of  the  bushes,  sang  their 
rich  full  songs  without  heeding  us  as  we  went  by. 

When  the  sun  was  well  on  high  and  the  heat  of  the 
day  had  begun  we  came  to  a  dreary  and  barren  plain, 
broken  by  rows  of  low  clay  buttes.  The  ground  in  places 
was  whitened  by  alkali ;  elsewhere  it  was  dull  gray.  Here 
there  grew  nothing  save  sparse  tufts  of  coarse  grass,  and 
cactus,  and  sprawling  sage  brush.  In  the  hot  air  all 
things  seen  afar  danced  and  wavered.  As  I  rode  and 
gazed  at  the  shimmering  haze  the  vast  desolation  of  the 
landscape  bore  on  me  ;  it  seemed  as  if  the  unseen  and 
unknown  powers  of  the  wastes  were  moving  by  and 


On  the  Cattle  Ranges.  57 

marshalling  their  silent  forces.  No  man  save  the  wilder- 
ness dweller  knows  the  strong  melancholy  fascination  of 
these  long  rides  through  lonely  lands. 

At  noon,  that  the  horses  might  graze  and  drink,  I 
halted  where  some  box-alders  grew  by  a  pool  in  the  bed 
of  a  half-dry  creek  ;  and  shifted  my  saddle  to  a  fresh  beast. 
When  we  started  again  we  came  out  on  the  rolling  prairie, 
where  the  green  sea  of  wind-rippled  grass  stretched  limit- 
less as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  Little  striped  gophers 
scuttled  away,  or  stood  perfectly  straight  at  the  mouths 
of  their  burrows,  looking  like  picket  pins.  Curlews 
clamored  mournfully  as  they  circled  overhead.  Prairie 
fowl  swept  off,  clucking  and  calling,  or  strutted  about  with 
their  sharp  tails  erect.  Antelope  were  very  plentiful 
running  like  race-horses  across  the  level,  or  uttering  theii 
queer,  barking  grunt  as  they  stood  at  gaze,  the  white  hairs 
on  their  rumps  all  on  end,  their  neck  bands  of  broken 
brown  and  white  vivid  in  the  sunlight.  They  were  found 
singly  or  in  small  straggling  parties ;  the  master  bucks 
had  not  yet  begun  to  drive  out  the  younger  and  weaker 
ones  as  later  in  the  season,  when  each  would  gather  into 
a  herd  as  many  does  as  his  jealous  strength  could  guard 
from  rivals.  The  nursing  does  whose  kids  had  come  early 
were  often  found  with  the  bands  ;  the  others  kept  apart. 
The  kids  were  very  conspicuous  figures  on  the  prairies, 
across  which  they  scudded  like  jack  rabbits,  showing  near- 
ly as  much  speed  and  alertness  as  their  parents  ;  only  the 
very  young  sought  safety  by  lying  flat  to  escape  notice. 

The  horses  cantered  and  trotted  steadily  over  the  mat 
of  buffalo  grass,  steering  for  the  group  of  low  scoria 


58  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

mounds  which  was  my  goal.  In  mid-afternoon  I  reached 
it.  The  two  wagons  were  drawn  up  near  the  spring ; 
under  them  lay  the  night-wranglers,  asleep  ;  nearby  the 
teamster-cooks  were  busy  about  the  evening  meal.  A 
little  way  off  the  two  day-wranglers  were  watching  the 
horse-herd  ;  into  which  I  speedily  turned  my  own  animals. 
The  riders  had  already  driven  in  the  bunches  of  cattle ; 
and  were  engaged  in  branding  the  calves,  and  turning 
loose  the  animals  that  were  not  needed,  while  the  remain- 
der were  kept,  forming  the  nucleus  of  the  herd  which  was 
to  accompany  the  wagon. 

As  soon  as  the  work  was  over  the  men  rode  to  the 
wagons  ;  sinewy  fellows,  with  tattered  broad-brimmed 
hats  and  clanking  spurs,  some  wearing  leather  shaps  or 
leggings,  others  having  their  trousers  tucked  into  their 
high-heeled  top-boots,  all  with  their  flannel  shirts  and  loose 
neckerchiefs  dusty  and  sweaty.  A  few  were  indulging  in 
rough,  good-natured  horse  play,  to  an  accompaniment  of 
yelling  mirth  ;  most  were  grave  and  taciturn,  greeting  me 
with  a  silent  nod  or  a  "  How  !  friend."  A  very  talkative 
man,  unless  the  acknowledged  wit  of  the  party,  according 
to  the  somewhat  florid  frontier  notion  of  wit,  is  always 
looked  on  with  disfavor  in  a  cow-camp.  After  supper, 
eaten  in  silent  haste,  we  gathered  round  the  embers  of 
the  small  fires,  and  the  conversation  glanced  fitfully  over 
the  threadbare  subjects  common  to  all  such  camps ;  the 
antics  of  some  particularly  vicious  bucking  bronco,  how 
the  different  brands  of  cattle  were  showing  up,  the  small- 
ness  of  the  calf  drop,  the  respective  merits  of  rawhide 
lariats  and  grass  ropes,  and  bits  of  rather  startling  and 


On  the  Cattle  Ranges.  59 

violent  news  concerning  the  fates  of  certain  neighbors. 
Then  one  by  one  we  began  to  turn  in  under  our  blankets. 

Our  wagon  was  to  furnish  the  night  guards  for  the  cat- 
tle ;  and  each  of  us  had  his  gentlest  horse  tied  ready  to 
hand.  The  night  guards  went  on  duty  two  at  a  time  for 
two-hour  watches.  By  good  luck  my  watch  came  last. 
My  comrade  was  a  happy-go-lucky  young  Texan  who  for 
some  inscrutable  reason  was  known  as  "  Latigo  Strap  " ; 
he  had  just  come  from  the  south  with  a  big  drove  of  trail 
cattle. 

A  few  minutes  before  two  one  of  the  guards  who  had 
gone  on  duty  at  midnight  rode  into  camp  and  wakened 
us  by  shaking  our  shoulders.  Fumbling  in  the  dark  I 
speedily  saddled  my  horse  ;  Latigo  had  left  his  saddled, 
and  he  started  ahead  of  me.  One  of  the  annoyances  of 
night  guarding,  at  least  in  thick  weather,  is  the  occasional 
difficulty  of  finding  the  herd  after  leaving  camp,  or  in  re- 
turning to  camp  after  the  watch  is  over ;  there  are  few 
things  more  exasperating  than  to  be  helplessly  wandering 
about  in  the  dark  under  such  circumstances.  However, 
on  this  occasion  there  was  no  such  trouble  ;  for  it  was  a 
brilliant  starlight  night  and  the  herd  had  been  bedded  down 
by  a  sugar-loaf  butte  which  made  a  good  landmark.  As 
we  reached  the  spot  we  could  make  out  the  loom  of  the 
cattle  lying  close  together  on  the  level  plain  ;  and  then  the 
dim  figure  of  a  horseman  rose  vaguely  from  the  darkness 
and  moved  by  in  silence  ;  it  was  the  other  of  the  two  mid- 
night guards,  on  his  way  back  to  his  broken  slumber. 

At  once  we  began  to  ride  slowly  round  the  cattle  in 
opposite  directions.  We  were  silent,  for  the  night  was 


60  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

clear,  and  the  herd  quiet ;  in  wild  weather,  when  the  cattle 
are  restless,  the  cowboys  never  cease  calling  and  singing  as 
they  circle  them,  for  the  sounds  seem  to  quiet  the  beasts. 

For  over  an  hour  we  steadily  paced  the  endless  round, 
saying  nothing,  with  our  great-coats  buttoned,  for  the  air 
is  chill  towards  morning  on  the  northern  plains,  even  in 
summer.  Then  faint  streaks  of  gray  appeared  in  the  east. 
Latigo  Strap  began  to  call  merrily  to  the  cattle.  A  coyote 
came  sneaking  over  the  butte  nearby,  and  halted  to  yell 
and  wail ;  afterwards  he  crossed  the  coulie  and  from  the 
hillside  opposite  again  shrieked  in  dismal  crescendo.  The 
dawn  brightened  rapidly  ;  the  little  skylarks  of  the  plains 
began  to  sing,  soaring  far  overhead,  while  it  was  still  much 
too  dark  to  see  them.  Their  song  is  not  powerful,  but  it 
is  so  clear  and  fresh  and  long-continued  that  it  always 
appeals  to  one  very  strongly  ;  especially  because  it  is  most 
often  heard  in  the  rose-tinted  air  of  the  glorious  mornings, 
while  the  listener  sits  in  the  saddle,  looking  across  the 
endless  sweep  of  the  prairies. 

As  it  grew  lighter  the  cattle  became  restless,  rising  and 
stretching  themselves,  while  we  continued  to  ride  round 
them. 

"  Then  the  bronc*  began  to  pitch 

And  I  began  to  ride  ; 
He  bucked  me  off  a  cut  bank, 
Hell  !  I  nearly  died  ! " 

sang  Latigo  from  the  other  side  of  the  herd.  A  yell 
from  the  wagons  told  that  the  cook  was  summoning  the 
sleeping  cow-punchers  to  breakfast ;  we  were  soon  able 
to  distinguish  their  figures  as  they  rolled  out  of  their  bed- 


On  the  Cattle  Ranges.  61 

ding,  wrapped  and  corded  it  into  bundles,  and  huddled 
sullenly  round  the  little  fires.  The  horse  wranglers  were 
driving  in  the  saddle  bands.  All  the  cattle  got  on  their 
feet  and  started  feeding.  In  a  few  minutes  the  hasty 
breakfast  at  the  wagons  had  evidently  been  despatched  for 
we  could  see  the  men  forming  rope  corrals  into  which  the 
ponies  were  driven  ;  then  each  man  saddled,  bridled,  and 
mounted  his  horse,  two  or  three  of  the  half-broken  beasts 
bucking,  rearing,  and  plunging  frantically  in  the  vain  effort 
to  unseat  their  riders. 

The  two  men  who  were  first  in  the  saddle  relieved 
Latigo  and  myself  and  we  immediately  galloped  to  camp, 
shifted  our  saddles  to  fresh  animals,  gulped  down  a  cup  or 
two  of  hot  coffee,  and  some  pork,  beans,  and  bread,  and 
rode  to  the  spot  where  the  others  were  gathered,  lolling 
loosely  in  their  saddles,  and  waiting  for  the  round-up  boss 
to  assign  them  their  tasks.  We  were  the  last,  and  as  soon 
as  we  arrived  the  boss  divided  all  into  two  parties  for  the 
morning  work,  or  "  circle  riding,"  whereby  the  cattle  were 
to  be  gathered  for  the  round-up  proper.  Then,  as  the 
others  started,  he  turned  to  me  and  remarked  :  "  We  Ve 
got  enough  hands  to  drive  this  open  country  without  you  ; 
but  we  Ve  out  of  meat,  and  I  don't  want  to  kill  a  beef  for 
such  a  small  outfit ;  can't  you  shoot  some  antelope  this 
morning  ?  We  '11  pitch  camp  by  the  big  blasted  cottonwood 
at  the  foot  of  the  ash  coulies,  over  yonder,  below  the  breaks 
of  Dry  Creek." 

Of  course  I  gladly  assented,  and  was  speedily  riding 
alone  across  the  grassy  slopes.  There  was  no  lack  of  the 
game  I  was  after,  for  from  every  rise  of  ground  I  could  see 


62  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

antelope  scattered  across  the  prairie,  singly,  in  couples,  or 
in  bands.  But  their  very  numbers,  joined  to  the  lack  of 
cover  on  such  an  open,  flattish  country,  proved  a  bar  to 
success  ;  while  I  was  stalking  one  band  another  was  sure 
to  see  me  and  begin  running,  whereat  the  first  would  like- 
wise start ;  I  missed  one  or  two  very  long  shots,  and  noon 
found  me  still  without  game. 

However,  I  was  then  lucky  enough  to  see  a  band  of  a 
dozen  feeding  to  windward  of  a  small  butte,  and  by  gal- 
loping in  a  long  circle  I  got  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of 
them  before  having  to  dismount.  The  stalk  itself  was 
almost  too  easy  ;  for  I  simply  walked  to  the  butte,  climbed 
carefully  up  a  slope  where  the  soil  was  firm  and  peered  over 
the  top  to  see  the  herd,  a  little  one,  a  hundred  yards  off. 
They  saw  me  at  once  and  ran,  but  I  held  well  ahead  of  a 
fine  young  prong-buck,  and  rolled  him  over  like  a  rabbit, 
with  both  shoulders  broken.  In  a  few  minutes  I  was 
riding  onwards  once  more  with  the  buck  lashed  behind  my 
saddle. 

The  next  one  I  got,  a  couple  of  hours  later,  offered  a 
much  more  puzzling  stalk.  He  was  a  big  fellow  in  com- 
pany with  four  does  or  small  bucks.  All  five  were  lying 
in  the  middle  of  a  slight  basin,  at  the  head  of  a  gentle  val- 
ley. At  first  sight  it  seemed  impossible  to  get  near  them, 
for  there  was  not  so  much  cover  as  a  sage  brush,  and  the 
smooth,  shallow  basin  in  which  they  lay  was  over  a  thou- 
sand yards  across,  while  they  were  looking  directly  down 
the  valley.  However,  it  is  curious  how  hard  it  is  to  tell, 
even  from  nearby,  whether  a  stalk  can  or  cannot  be 
made ;  the  difficulty  being  to  estimate  the  exact  amount 


On  the  Cattle  Ranges.  63 

of  shelter  yielded  by  little  inequalities  of  ground.  In  this 
instance  a  small  shallow  watercourse,  entirely  dry,  ran  along 
the  valley,  and  after  much  study  I  decided  to  try  to  crawl 
up  it,  although  the  big  bulging  telescopic  eyes  of  the 
prong-buck — which  have  much  keener  sight  than  deer 
or  any  other  game— would  in  such  case  be  pointed  directly 
my  way. 

Having  made  up  my  mind  I  backed  cautiously  down 
from  the  coign  of  vantage  whence  I  had  first  seen  the 
game,  and  ran  about  a  mile  to  the  mouth  of  a  washout 
which  formed  the  continuation  of  the  watercourse  in 
question.  Protected  by  the  high  clay  banks  of  this  wash- 
out I  was  able  to  walk  upright  until  within  half  a  mile  of 
the  prong-bucks  ;  then  my  progress  became  very  tedious 
and  toilsome,  as  I  had  to  work  my  way  up  the  water- 
course flat  on  my  stomach,  dragging  the  rifle  beside  me. 
At  last  I  reached  a  spot  beyond  which  not  even  a  snake 
could  crawl  unnoticed.  In  front  was  alow  bank,  a  couple 
of  feet  high,  crested  with  tufts  of  coarse  grass.  Raising 
my  head  very  cautiously  I  peered  through  these  and  saw 
the  prong-horn  about  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  distant. 
At  the  same  time  I  found  that  I  had  crawled  to  the  edge 
of  a  village  of  prairie  dogs,  which  had  already  made  me 
aware  of  their  presence  by  their  shrill  yelping.  They 
saw  me  at  once  ;  and  all  those  away  from  their  homes 
scuttled  towards  them,  and  dived  down  the  burrows,  or 
sat  on  the  mounds  at  the  entrances,  scolding  convulsively 
and  jerking  their  fat  little  bodies  and  short  tails.  This 
commotion  at  once  attracted  the  attention  of  the  antelope. 
They  rose  forthwith,  and  immediately  caught  a  glimpse 


64  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

of  the  black  muzzle  of  the  rifle  which  I  was  gently  push- 
ing through  the  grass  tufts.  The  fatal  curiosity  which  so 
often  in  this  species  offsets  wariness  and  sharp  sight, 
proved  my  friend  ;  evidently  the  antelope  could  not  quite 
make  me  out  and  wished  to  know  what  I  was.  They 
moved  nervously  to  and  fro,  striking  the  earth  with  their 
fore  hoofs,  and  now  and  then  uttering  a  sudden  bleat. 
At  last  the  big  buck  stood  still  broadside  to  me,  and  I 
fired.  He  went  off  with  the  others,  but  lagged  behind  as 
they  passed  over  the  hill  crest,  and  when  I  reached  it  I 
saw  him  standing,  not  very  far  off,  with  his  head  down. 
Then  he  walked  backwards  a  few  steps,  fell  over  on  his 
side,  and  died. 

As  he  was  a  big  buck  I  slung  him  across  the  saddle, 
and  started  for  camp  afoot,  leading  the  horse.  However 
my  hunt  was  not  over,  for  while  still  a  mile  from  the 
wagons,  going  down  a  coulie  of  Dry  Creek,  a  yearling 
prong-buck  walked  over  the  divide  to  my  right  and  stood 
still  until  I  sent  a  bullet  into  its  chest ;  so  that  I  made  my 
appearance  in  camp  with  three  antelope. 

I  spoke  above  of  the  sweet  singing  of  the  western 
meadow  lark  and  plains  skylark ;  neither  of  them  kin  to 
the  true  skylark,  by  the  way,  one  being  a  cousin  of  the 
grakles  and  hang-birds,  and  the  other  a  kind  of  pipit.  To 
me  both  of  these  birds  are  among  the  most  attractive 
singers  to  which  I  have  ever  listened  ;  but  with  all  bird- 
music  much  must  be  allowed  for  the  surroundings,  and 
much  for  the  mood,  and  the  keenness  of  sense,  of  the 
listener.  The  lilt  of  the  little  plains  skylark  is  neither 
very  powerful  nor  very  melodious ;  but  it  is  sweet,  pure, 


On  the  Cattle  Ranges.  65 

long-sustained,  with  a  ring  of  courage  befitting  a  song 
uttered  in  highest  air. 

The  meadow  lark  is  a  singer  of  a  higher  order,  de- 
serving to  rank  with  the  best.  Its  song  has  length,  varie- 
ty, power  and  rich  melody ;  and  there  is  in  it  sometimes 
a  cadence  of  wild  sadness,  inexpressibly  touching.  Yet  I 
cannot  say  that  either  song  would  appeal  to  others  as  it 
appeals  to  me ;  for  to  me  it  comes  forever  laden  with  a 
hundred  memories  and  associations ;  with  the  sight  of 
dim  hills  reddening  in  the  dawn,  with  the  breath  of  cool 
morning  winds  blowing  across  lonely  plains,  with  the 
scent  of  flowers  on  the  sunlit  prairie,  with  the  motion 
of  fiery  horses,  with  all  the  strong  thrill  of  eager  and 
buoyant  life.  I  doubt  if  any  man  can  judge  dispassion- 
ately the  bird  songs  of  his  own  country  ;  he  cannot  disas- 
sociate them  from  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the  land  that 
is  so  dear  to  him. 

This  is  not  a  feeling  to  regret,  but  it  must  be  taken 
into  account  in  accepting  any  estimate  of  bird  music — 
even  in  considering  the  reputation  of  the  European  sky- 
lark and  nightingale.  To  both  of  these  birds  I  have 
often  listened  in  their  own  homes ;  always  with  pleasure 
and  admiration,  but  always  with  a  growing  belief  that 
relatively  to  some  other  birds  they  were  ranked  too  high. 
They  are  pre-eminently  birds  with  literary  associations ; 
most  people  take  their  opinions  of  them  at  second-hand, 
from  the  poets. 

No  one  can  help  liking  the  lark ;  it  is  such  a  brave, 
honest,  cheery  bird,  and  moreover  its  song  is  uttered  in 
the  air,  and  is  very  long-sustained.  But  it  is  by  no  means 


66  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

a  musician  of  the  first  rank.  The  nightingale  is  a  per- 
former of  a  very  different  and  far  higher  order  ;  yet  though 
it  is  indeed  a  notable  and  admirable  singer,  it  is  an  ex- 
aggeration to  call  it  unequalled.  In  melody,  and  above 
all  in  that  finer,  higher  melody  where  the  chords  vibrate 
with  the  touch  of  eternal  sorrow,  it  cannot  rank  with  such 
singers  as  the  wood  thrush  and  hermit  thrush.  The 
serene,  ethereal  beauty  of  the  hermit's  song,  rising  and 
falling  through  the  still  evening,  under  the  archways  of 
hoary  mountain  forests  that  have  endured  from  time  ever- 
lasting ;  the  golden,  leisurely  chiming  of  the  wood  thrush, 
sounding  on  June  afternoons,  stanza  by  stanza,  through 
sun-flecked  groves  of  tall  hickories,  oaks,  and  chestnuts ; 
with  these  there  is  nothing  in  the  nightingale's  song  to 
compare.  But  in  volume  and  continuity,  in  tuneful,  volu- 
ble, rapid  outpouring  and  ardor,  above  all  in  skilful  and 
intricate  variation  of  theme,  its  song  far  surpasses  that  of 
either  of  the  thrushes.  In  all  these  respects  it  is  more 
just  to  compare  it  with  the  mocking-bird's,  which,  as  a 
rule,  likewise  falls  short  precisely  on  those  points  where 
the  songs  of  the  two  thrushes  excel. 

The  mocking-bird  is  a  singer  that  has  suffered  much 
in  reputation  from  its  powers  of  mimicry.  On  ordinary 
occasions,  and  especially  in  the  daytime,  it  insists  on 
playing  the  harlequin.  But  when  free  in  its  own  favorite 
haunts  at  night  in  the  love  season  it  has  a  song,  or  rather 
songs,  which  are  not  only  purely  original,  but  are  also 
more  beautiful  than  any  other  bird  music  whatsoever. 
Once  I  listened  to  a  mocking-bird  singing  the  livelong 
spring  night,  under  the  full  moon,  in  a  magnolia  tree  \ 
and  I  do  not  think  I  shall  ever  forget  its  song. 


On  the  Cattle  Ranges.  67 

It  was  on  the  plantation  of  Major  Campbell  Brown, 
near  Nashville,  in  the  beautiful,  fertile  mid-Tennessee 
country.  The  mocking-birds  were  prime  favorites  on  the 
place  ;  and  were  given  full  scope  for  the  development,  not 
only  of  their  bold  friendliness  towards  mankind,  but  also 
of  that  marked  individuality  and  originality  of  character 
in  which  they  so  far  surpass  every  other  bird  as  to  become 
the  most  interesting  of  all  feathered  folk.  One  of  the 
mockers,  which  lived  in  the  hedge  bordering  the  garden, 
was  constantly  engaged  in  an  amusing  feud  with  an  honest 
old  setter  dog,  the  point  of  attack  being  the  tip  of  the 
dog's  tail.  For  some  reason  the  bird  seemed  to  regard 
any  hoisting  of  the  setter's  tail  as  a  challenge  and  insult. 
It  would  flutter  near  the  dog  as  he  walked;  the  old  setter 
would  become  interested  in  something  and  raise  his  tail. 
The  bird  would  promptly  fly  at  it  and  peck  the  tip  ;  where- 
upon down  went  the  tail  until  in  a  couple  of  minutes  the 
old  fellow  would  forget  himself,  and  the  scene  would  be 
repeated.  The  dog  usually  bore  the  assaults  with  comic 
resignation ;  and  the  mocker  easily  avoided  any  momentary 
outburst  of  clumsy  resentment. 

On  the  evening  in  question  the  moon  was  full.  My 
host  kindly  assigned  me  a  room  of  which  the  windows 
opened  on  a  great  magnolia  tree,  where,  I  was  told,  a 
mocking-bird  sang  every  night  and  all  night  long.  I  went 
to  my  room  about  ten.  The  moonlight  was  shining  in 
through  the  open  window,  and  the  mocking-bird  was 
already  in  the  magnolia.  The  great  tree  was  bathed  in  a 
flood  of  shining  silver ;  I  could  see  each  twig,  and  mark 
every  action  of  the  singer,  who  was  pouring  forth  such  a 
rapture  of  ringing  melody  as  I  have  never  listened  to 


68  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

before  or  since.  Sometimes  he  would  perch  motionless 
for  many  minutes,  his  body  quivering  and  thrilling  with  the 
outpour  of  music.  Then  he  would  drop  softly  from  twig 
to  twig,  until  the  lowest  limb  was  reached,  when  he  would 
rise,  fluttering  and  leaping  through  the  branches,  his  song 
never  ceasing  for  an  instant,  until  he  reached  the  summit 
of  the  tree  and  launched  into  the  warm,  scent-laden  air, 
floating  in  spirals,  with  outspread  wings,  until,  as  if  spent, 
he  sank  gently  back  into  the  tree  and  down  through  the 
branches,  while  his  song  rose  into  an  ecstasy  of  ardor  and 
passion.  His  voice  rang  like  a  clarionet,  in  rich,  full 
tones,  and  his  execution  covered  the  widest  possible  com- 
pass ;  theme  followed  theme,  a  torrent  of  music,  a  swelling 
tide  of  harmony,  in  which  scarcely  any  two  bars  were 
alike.  I  stayed  till  midnight  listening  to  him  ;  he  was 
singing  when  I  went  to  sleep  ;  he  was  still  singing  when  I 
woke  a  couple  of  hours  later  ;  he  sang  through  the  livelong 
night. 

There  are  many  singers  beside  the  meadow  lark  and 
little  skylark  in  the  plains  country  ;  that  brown  and  deso- 
late land,  once  the  home  of  the  thronging  buffalo,  still 
haunted  by  the  bands  of  the  prong-buck,  and  roamed  over 
in  ever  increasing  numbers  by  the  branded  herds  of  the 
ranchman.  In  the  brush  of  the  river  bottoms  there  are 
the  thrasher  and  song  sparrow  ;  on  the  grassy  uplands  the 
lark  finch,  vesper  sparrow,  and  lark  bunting ;  and  in  the 
rough  canyons  the  rock  wren,  with  its  ringing  melody. 

Yet  in  certain  moods  a  man  cares  less  for  even  the  love- 
liest bird  songs  than  for  the  wilder,  harsher,  stronger  sounds 
of  the  wilderness  ;  the  guttural  booming  and  clucking  of  the 


On  the  Cattle  Ranges.  69 

prairie  fowl  and  the  great  sage  fowl  in  spring ;  the  honk- 
ing of  gangs  of  wild  geese,  as  they  fly  in  rapid  wedges ; 
the  bark  of  an  eagle,  wheeling  in  the  shadow  of  storm- 
scarred  cliffs  ;  or  the  far-off  clanging  of  many  sand-hill 
cranes,  soaring  high  overhead  in  circles  which  cross  and 
recross  at  an  incredible  altitude.  Wilder  yet,  and  stranger, 
are  the  cries  of  the  great  four-footed  beasts ;  the  rhyth- 
mic pealing  of  a  bull-elk's  challenge  ;  and  that  most  sinister 
and  mournful  sound,  ever  fraught  with  foreboding  of 
murder  and  rapine,  the  long-drawn  baying  of  the  gray 
wolf. 

Indeed,  save  to  the  trained  ear  most  mere  bird  songs 
are  not  very  noticeable.  The  ordinary  wilderness  dweller, 
whether  hunter  or  cowboy,  scarcely  heeds  them ;  and  in 
fact  knows  but  little  of  the  smaller  birds.  If  a  bird  has 
some  conspicuous  peculiarity  of  look  or  habit  he  will 
notice  its  existence ;  but  not  otherwise.  He  knows  a 
good  deal  about  magpies,  whiskey  jacks,  or  water  ousels  ; 
but  nothing  whatever  concerning  the  thrushes,  finches, 
and  warblers. 

It  is  the  same  with  mammals.  The  prairie-dogs  he 
cannot  help  noticing.  With  the  big  pack-rats  also  he  is 
well  acquainted ;  for  they  are  handsome,  with  soft  gray 
fur,  large  eyes,  and  bushy  tails  ;  and,  moreover,  no  one 
can  avoid  remarking  their  extraordinary  habit  of  carrying 
to  their  burrows  everything  bright,  useless,  and  portable, 
from  an  empty  cartridge  case  to  a  skinning  knife.  But  he 
knows  nothing  of  mice,  shrews,  pocket  gophers,  or  weasels  ; 
and  but  little  even  of  some  larger  mammals  with  very 
marked  characteristics.  Thus  I  have  met  but  one  or  two 


70  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

plainsmen  who  knew  anything  of  the  curious  plains  ferret, 
that  rather  rare  weasel-like  animal,  which  plays  the  same 
part  on  the  plains  that  the  mink  does  by  the  edges  of  all 
our  streams  and  brooks,  and  the  tree-loving  sable  in  the 
cold  northern  forests.  The  ferret  makes  its  home  in  bur- 
rows, and  by  preference  goes  abroad  at  dawn  and  dusk, 
but  sometimes  even  at  mid-day.  It  is  as  blood-thirsty  as 
the  mink  itself,  and  its  life  is  one  long  ramble  for  prey, 
gophers,  prairie-dogs,  sage  rabbits,  jack-rabbits,  snakes, 
and  every  kind  of  ground  bird  furnishing  its  food.  I 
have  known  one  to  fairly  depopulate  a  prairie-dog  town, 
it  being  the  arch  foe  of  these  little  rodents,  because  of 
its  insatiable  blood  lust  and  its  capacity  to  follow  them 
into  their  burrows.  Once  I  found  the  bloody  body  and 
broken  eggs  of  a  poor  prairie-hen  which  a  ferret  had  evi- 
dently surprised  on  her  nest.  Another  time  one  of  my 
men  was  eye-witness  to  a  more  remarkable  instance  of  the 
little  animal's  blood-thirsty  ferocity.  He  was  riding  the 
range,  and  being  attracted  by  a  slight  commotion  in  a 
clump  of  grass,  he  turned  his  horse  thither  to  look,  and 
to  his  astonishment  found  an  antelope  fawn  at  the  last 
gasp,  but  still  feebly  struggling,  in  the  grasp  of  a  ferret, 
which  had  throttled  it  and  was  sucking  its  blood  with 
hideous  greediness.  He  avenged  the  murdered  innocent 
by  a  dexterous  blow  with  the  knotted  end  of  his  lariat. 

That  mighty  bird  of  rapine,  the  war  eagle,  which  on 
the  great  plains  and  among  the  Rockies  supplants  the 
bald-headed  eagle  of  better-watered  regions,  is  another 
dangerous  foe  of  the  young  antelope.  It  is  even  said 
that  under  exceptional  circumstances  eagles  will  assail  a 


EAGLES  ATTACKING  A  PRONG-BUCK. 


On  the  Cattle  Ranges.  7* 

full  grown  prong-horn  ;  and  a  neighboring  ranchman 
informs  me  that  he  was  once  an  eye-witness  to  such  an 
attack.  It  was  a  bleak  day  in  the  late  winter,  and  he  was 
riding  home  across  a  wide  dreary  plateau,  when  he  saw 
two  eagles  worrying  and  pouncing  on  a  prong-buck — seem- 
ingly a  yearling.  It  made  a  gallant  fight.  The  eagles 
hovered  over  it  with  spread  wings,  now  and  then  swooping 
down,  their  talons  out-thrust,  to  strike  at  the  head,  or  to 
try  to  settle  on  the  loins.  The  antelope  reared  and  struck 
with  hoofs  and  horns  like  a  goat ;  but  its  strength  was 
failing  rapidly,  and  doubtless  it  would  have  succumbed  in 
the  end  had  not  the  approach  of  the  ranchman  driven  off 
the  marauders. 

I  have  likewise  heard  stories  of  eagles  attacking 
badgers,  foxes,  bob-cats,  and  coyotes ;  but  I  am  inclined 
to  think  all  such  cases  exceptional.  I  have  never  myself 
seen  an  eagle  assail  anything  bigger  than  a  fawn,  lamb, 
kid,  or  jack-rabbit.  It  also  swoops  at  geese,  sage  fowl, 
and  prairie  fowl.  On  one  occasion  while  riding  over  the 
range  I  witnessed  an  attack  on  a  jack-rabbit.  The  eagle 
was  soaring  overhead,  and  espied  the  jack  while  the  latter 
was  crouched  motionless.  Instantly  the  great  bird  rushed 
down  through  the  humming  air,  with  closed  wings  ; 
checked  itself  when  some  forty  yards  above  the  jack, 
hovered  for  a  moment,  and  again  fell  like  a  bolt.  Away 
went  long-ears,  running  as  only  a  frightened  jack  can  ; 
and  after  him  the  eagle,  not  with  the  arrowy  rush  of  its 
descent  from  high  air,  but  with  eager,  hurried  flapping. 
In  a  short  time  it  had  nearly  overtaken  the  fugitive,  when 
the  latter  dodged  sharply  to  one  side,  and  the  eagle  over- 


72  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

shot  it  precisely  as  a  grayhound  would  have  done, 
stopping  itself  by  a  powerful,  setting  motion  of  the  great 
pinions.  Twice  this  manoeuvre  was  repeated ;  then  the 
eagle  made  a  quick  rush,  caught  and  overthrew  the  quarry 
before  it  could  turn,  and  in  another  moment  was  sitting 
triumphant  on  the  quivering  body,  the  crooked  talons 
driven  deep  into  the  soft,  furry  sides. 

Once  while  hunting  mountain  sheep  in  the  Bad  Lands  I 
killed  an  eagle  on  the  wing  with  the  rifle.  I  was  walking 
beneath  a  cliff  of  gray  clay,  when  the  eagle  sailed  into 
view  over  the  crest.  As  soon  as  he  saw  me  he  threw  his 
wings  aback,  and  for  a  moment  before  wheeling  poised 
motionless,  offering  a  nearly  stationary  target ;  so  that 
my  bullet  grazed  his  shoulder,  and  down  he  came  through 
the  air,  tumbling  over  and  over.  As  he  struck  the 
ground  he  threw  himself  on  his  back,  and  fought  against 
his  death  with  the  undaunted  courage  proper  to  his 
brave  and  cruel  nature. 

Indians  greatly  prize  the  feathers  of  this  eagle.  With 
them  they  make  their  striking  and  beautiful  war  bonnets, 
and  bedeck  the  manes  and  tails  of  their  spirited  war 
ponies.  Every  year  the  Grosventres  and  Mandans  from 
the  Big  Missouri  come  to  the  neighborhood  of  my  ranch 
to  hunt.  Though  not  good  marksmen  they  kill  many 
whitetail  deer,  driving  the  bottoms  for  them  in  bands,  on 
horseback ;  and  they  catch  many  eagles.  Sometimes 
they  take  these  alive  by  exposing  a  bait  near  which  a  hole 
is  dug,  where  one  of  them  lies  hidden  for  days,  with 
Indian  patience,  until  an  eagle  lights  on  the  bait  and  is 
noosed. 


On  the  Cattle  Ranges.  73 

Even  eagles  are  far  less  dangerous  enemies  to  antelope 
than  are  wolves  and  coyotes.  These  beasts  are  always 
prowling  round  the  bands,  to  snap  up  the  sick  or  unwary  ; 
and  in  spring  they  revel  in  carnage  of  the  kids  and  fawns. 
They  are  not  swift  enough  to  overtake  the  grown  animals 
by  sheer  speed ;  but  they  are  superior  in  endurance,  and 
especially  in  winter,  often  run  them  down  in  fair  chase. 
A  prong-buck  is  a  plucky  little  beast,  and  when  cornered 
it  often  makes  a  gallant,  though  not  a  very  effectual,  fight. 


CHAPTER    V. 

HUNTING    THE    PRONG-BUCK  ;  FROST,  FIRE,  AND  THIRST. 


AS  with  all  other  American  game  man  is  a  worse 
foe  to  the  prong-horns  than  all  their  brute 
enemies  combined.  They  hold  their  own  much 
better  than  the  bigger  game  ;  on  the  whole  even  better 
than  the  blacktail ;  but  their  numbers  have  been  wofully 
thinned,  and  in  many  places  they  have  been  com- 
pletely exterminated.  The  most  exciting  method  of  chas- 
ing them  is  on  horseback  with  grayhounds  ;  but  they  are 
usually  killed  with  the  rifle.  Owing  to  the  open  nature 
of  the  ground  they  frequent  the  shots  must  generally  be 
taken  at  long  range  ;  hence  this  kind  of  hunting  is  pre- 
eminently that  needing  judgment  of  distance  and  skill  in 
the  use  of  the  long-range  rifle  at  stationary  objects.  On 
the  other  hand  the  antelope  are  easily  seen,  making  no 
effort  to  escape  observation,  as  deer  do,  and  are  so  curious 
that  in  very  wild  districts  to  this  day  they  can  sometimes 
be  tolled  within  rifle  shot  by  the  judicious  waving  of  a 
red  flag.  In  consequence,  a  good  many  very  long,  but 
tempting,  shots  can  be  obtained.  More  cartridges  are 
used,  relatively  to  the  amount  of  game  killed,  on  antelope, 
than  in  any  other  hunting. 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  75 

Often  I  have  killed  prong-bucks  while  riding  between 
the  outlying  line  camps,  which  are  usually  stationed  ~a 
dozen  miles  or  so  back  from  the  river,  where  the  Bad 
Lands  melt  into  the  prairie.  In  continually  trying  long 
shots,  of  course  one  occasionally  makes  a  remarkable  hit. 
Once  I  remember  while  riding  down  a  broad,  shallow 
coulie  with  two  of  my  cow-hands — Seawell  and  Dow, 
both  keen  hunters  and  among  the  staunchest  friends  I 
have  ever  had, — rousing  a  band  of  antelope  which  stood 
irresolute  at  about  a  hundred  yards  until  I  killed  one. 
Then  they  dashed  off,  and  I  missed  one  shot,  but  with  my 
next,  to  my  own  utter  astonishment,  killed  the  last  of  the 
band,  a  big  buck,  just  as  he  topped  a  rise  four  hundred 
yards  away.  To  offset  such  shots  I  have  occasionally 
made  an  unaccountable  miss.  Once  I  was  hunting  with 
the  same  two  men,  on  a  rainy  day,  when  we  came  on  a 
bunch  of  antelope  some  seventy  yards  off,  lying  down  on 
the  side  of  a  coulie,  to  escape  the  storm.  They  huddled 
together  a  moment  to  gaze,  and,  with  stiffened  fingers  I 
took  a  shot,  my  yellow  oilskin  slicker  flapping  around  me 
in  the  wind  and  rain.  Down  went  one  buck,  and  away 
went  the  others.  One  of  my  men  walked  up  to  the  fallen 
beast,  bent  over  it,  and  then  asked,  "  Where  did  you  aim  ?  " 
Not  reassured  by  the  question,  I  answered  doubtfully, 
"  Behind  the  shoulder  "  ;  whereat  he  remarked  drily,  "  Well, 
you  hit  it  in  the  eye  !  "  I  never  did  know  whether  I  killed 
the  antelope  I  aimed  at  or  another.  Yet  that  same  day  I 
killed  three  more  bucks  at  decidedly  long  shots  ;  at  the 
time  we  lacked  meat  at  the  ranch,  and  were  out  to  make 
a  good  killing. 


76  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Besides  their  brute  and  human  foes,  the  prong-horn 
must  also  fear  the  elements,  and  especially  the  snows  of 
winter.  On  the  northern  plains  the  cold  weather  is  of 
polar  severity,  and  turns  the  green,  grassy  prairies  of  mid- 
summer into  ironbound  wastes.  The  blizzards  whirl 
and  sweep  across  them  with  a  shrieking  fury  which 
few  living  things  may  face.  The  snow  is  like  fine  ice 
dust,  and  the  white  waves  glide  across  the  grass  with  a 
stealthy,  crawling  motion  which  has  in  it  something  sinister 
and  cruel.  Accordingly,  as  the  bright  fall  weather  passes, 
and  the  dreary  winter  draws  nigh,  when  the  days  shorten, 
and  the  nights  seem  interminable,  and  gray  storms  lower 
above  the  gray  horizon,  the  antelope  gather  in  bands  and 
seek  sheltered  places,  where  they  may  abide  through  the 
winter-time  of  famine  and  cold  and  deep  snow.  Some  of 
these  bands  travel  for  many  hundred  miles,  going  and  re- 
turning over  the  same  routes,  swimming  rivers,  crossing 
prairies,  and  threading  their  way  through  steep  defiles. 
Such  bands  make  their  winter  home  in  places  like  the 
Black  Hills,  or  similar  mountainous  regions,  where  the 
shelter  and  feed  are  good,  and  where  in  consequence  ante- 
lope have  wintered  in  countless  thousands  for  untold  gen- 
erations. Other  bands  do  not  travel  for  any  very  great 
distance,  but  seek  some  sheltered  grassy  table-land  in  the 
Bad  Lands,  or  some  well-shielded  valley,  where  their  in- 
stinct and  experience  teach  them  that  the  snow  does  not  lie 
deep  in  winter.  Once  having  chosen  such  a  place  they 
stand  much  persecution  before  leaving  it. 

One  December,  an  old  hunter  whom  I  knew  told  me 
that  such  a  band  was  wintering  a  few  miles  from  a  camp 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  77 

where  two  line-riders  of  the  W  Bar  brand  were  stationed  ; 
and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  ride  thither  and  kill  a  couple. 
The  line  camp  was  twenty  miles  from  my  ranch  ;  the  shack 
in  which  the  old  hunter  lived  was  midway  between,  and  I 
had  to  stop  there  to  find  out  the  exact  lay  of  the  land. 

At  dawn,  before  our  early  breakfast,  I  saddled  a  tough, 
shaggy  sorrel  horse  ;  hastening  in-doors  as  soon  as  the  job 
was  over,  to  warm  my  numbed  fingers.  After  breakfast  I 
started,  muffled  in  my  wolf-skin  coat,  with  beaver-fur  cap, 
gloves,  and  shaps,  and  great  felt  over-shoes.  The  wind- 
less air  was  bitter  cold,  the  thermometer  showing  well 
below  zero.  Snow  lay  on  the  ground,  leaving  bare  patches 
here  and  there,  but  drifted  deep  in  the  hollows.  Under 
the  steel-blue  heavens  the  atmosphere  had  a  peculiar  glint 
as  if  filled  with  myriads  of  tiny  crystals.  As  I  crossed 
the  frozen  river,  immediately  in  front  of  the  ranch  house, 
the  strangely  carved  tops  of  the  bluffs  were  reddening 
palely  in  the  winter  sunrise.  Prairie  fowl  were  perched 
in  the  bare  cottonwoods  along  the  river  brink,  showing 
large  in  the  leafless  branches  ;  they  called  and  clucked  to 
one  another. 

Where  the  ground  was  level  and  the  snow  not  too  deep 
I  loped,  and  before  noon  I  reached  the  sheltered  coulie 
where,  with  long  poles  and  bark,  the  hunter  had  built  his 
tepee — wigwam,  as  eastern  woodsmen  would  have  called 
it.  It  stood  in  a  loose  grove  of  elms  and  box-alders  ; 
from  the  branches  of  the  nearest  trees  hung  saddles  of 
frozen  venison.  The  smoke  rising  from  the  funnel-shaped 
top  of  the  tepee  showed  that  there  was  more  fire  than 
usual  within  ;  it  is  easy  to  keep  a  good  tepee  warm,  though 


78  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

it  is  so  smoky  that  no  one  therein  can  stand  upright.  As 
I  drew  rein  the  skin  door  was  pushed  aside,  and  the  hard 
old  face  and  dried,  battered  body  of  the  hunter  appeared. 
He  greeted  me  with  a  surly  nod,  and  a  brief  request  to 
"light  and  hev  somethin' to  eat"-— the  invariable  proffer 
of  hospitality  on  the  plains.  He  wore  a  greasy  buckskin 
shirt  or  tunic,  and  an  odd  cap  of  badger  skin,  from  beneath 
which  strayed  his  tangled  hair ;  age,  rheumatism,  and  the 
many  accidents  and  incredible  fatigue,  hardship,  and  ex- 
posure of  his  past  life  had  crippled  him,  yet  he  still  pos- 
sessed great  power  of  endurance,  and  in  his  seamed 
weather-scarred  face  his  eyes  burned  fierce  and  piercing  as 
a  hawk's.  Ever  since  early  manhood  he  had  wandered 
over  the  plains,  hunting  and  trapping ;  he  had  waged 
savage  private  war  against  half  the  Indian  tribes  of  the 
north  ;  and  he  had  wedded  wives  in  each  of  the  tribes  of 
the  other  half.  A  few  years  before  this  time  the  great 
buffalo  herds  had  vanished,  and  the  once  swarming  beaver 
had  shared  the  same  fate  ;  the  innumerable  horses  and 
horned  stock  of  the  cattlemen,  and  the  daring  rough  riders 
of  the  ranches,  had  supplanted  alike  the  game  and  the  red 
and  white  wanderers  who  had  followed  it  with  such  fierce 
rivalry.  When  the  change  took  place  the  old  fellow,  with 
failing  bodily  powers,  found  his  life-work  over.  He  had 
little  taste  for  the  career  of  the  desperado,  horse-thief, 
highwayman,  and  man-killer,  which  not  a  few  of  the  old 
buffalo  hunters  adopted  when  their  legitimate  occupation 
was  gone  ;  he  scorned  still  more  the  life  of  vicious  and 
idle  semi-criminality  led  by  others  of  his  former  com- 
panions who  were  of  weaker  mould.  Yet  he  could  not  do 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  79 

regular  work.  His  existence  had  been  one  of  excitement, 
adventure,  and  restless  roaming,  when  it  was  not  passed  in 
lazy  ease  ;  his  times  of  toil  and  peril  varied  by  fits  of 
brutal  revelry.  He  had  no  kin,  no  ties  of  any  kind.  He 
would  accept  no  help,  for  his  wants  were  very  few,  and  he 
was  utterly  self-reliant.  He  got  meat,  clothing,  and  bed- 
ding from  the  antelope  and  deer  he  killed  ;  the  spare  hides 
and  venison  he  bartered  for  what  little  else  he  needed.  So 
he  built  him  his  tepee  in  one  of  the  most  secluded  parts 
of  the  Bad  Lands,  where  he  led  the  life  of  a  solitary 
hunter,  awaiting  in  grim  loneliness  the  death  which  he 
knew  to  be  near  at  hand. 

I  unsaddled  and  picketed  my  horse,  and  followed  the 
old  hunter  into  his  smoky  tepee  ;  sat  down  on  the  pile  of 
worn  buffalo  robes  which  formed  his  bedding,  and  waited 
in  silence  while  he  fried  some  deer  meat,  and  boiled  some 
coffee — he  was  out  of  flour.  As  I  ate,  he  gradually  unbent 
and  talked  quite  freely,  and  before  I  left  he  told  me  exactly 
where  to  find  the  band,  which  he  assured  me  was  located 
for  the  winter,  and  would  not  leave  unless  much  harried. 

After  a  couple  of  hours'  rest  I  again  started,  and 
pushed  out  to  the  end  of  the  Bad  Lands.  Here,  as  there 
had  been  no  wind,  I  knew  I  should  find  in  the  snow  the 
tracks  of  one  of  the  riders  from  the  line  camp,  whose 
beat  lay  along  the  edge  of  the  prairie  for  some  eight  miles, 
until  it  met  the  beat  of  a  rider  from  the  line  camp  next 
above.  As  nightfall  came  on  it  grew  even  colder ;  long 
icicles  hung  from  the  lips  of  my  horse  ;  and  I  shivered 
slightly  in  my  fur  coat.  I  had  reckoned  the  distance  ill, 
and  it  was  dusk  when  I  struck  the  trail  ;  but  my  horse  at 


8o  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

once  turned  along  it  of  his  own  accord  and  began  to  lope. 
Half  an  hour  later  I  saw  through  the  dark  what  looked 
like  a  spark  on  the  side  of  a  hill.  Toward  this  my  horse 
turned ;  and  in  another  moment  a  whinneying  from  in 
front  showed  I  was  near  the  camp.  The  light  was  shining 
through  a  small  window,  the  camp  itself  being  a  dugout 
with  a  log  roof  and  front — a  kind  of  frontier  building 
always  warm  in  winter.  After  turning  my  horse  into  the 
rough  log  stable  with  the  horses  of  the  two  cowboys,  I 
joined  the  latter  at  supper  inside  the  dugout ;  being  re- 
ceived of  course  with  hearty  cordiality.  After  the  intense 
cold  outside  the  warmth  within  was  almost  oppressive,  for 
the  fire  was  roaring  in  the  big  stone  fireplace.  The  bunks 
were  broad ;  my  two  friends  turned  into  one,  and  I  was 
given  the  other,  with  plenty  of  bedding  ;  so  that  my  sleep 
was  sound. 

We  had  breakfasted  and  saddled  our  horses  and  were 
off  by  dawn  next  morning.  My  companions,  muf- 
fled in  furs,  started  in  opposite  directions  to  ride  their 
lonely  beats,  while  I  steered  for  my  hunting-ground.  It 
was  a  lowering  and  gloomy  day ;  at  sunrise  pale,  lurid 
sundogs  hung  in  the  glimmering  mist ;  gusts  of  wind 
moaned  through  the  ravines. 

At  last  I  reached  a  row  of  bleak  hills,  and  from  a 
ridge  looked  cautiously  down  on  the  chain  of  plateaus, 
where  I  had  been  told  I  should  see  the  antelope.  Sure 
enough,  there  they  were,  to  the  number  of  several  hun- 
dred, scattered  over  the  level  snow-streaked  surface  of  the 
nearest  and  largest  plateau,  greedily  cropping  the  thick, 
short  grass.  Leaving  my  horse  tied  in  a  hollow  I  speedily 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  81 

stalked  up  a  coulie  to  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  near- 
est band  and  killed  a  good  buck.  Instantly  all  the  ante 
lope  in  sight  ran  together  into  a  thick  mass  and  raced 
away  from  me,  until  they  went  over  the  opposite  edge  of 
the  plateau  ;  but  almost  as  soon  as  they  did  so  they  were 
stopped  by  deep  drifts  of  powdered  snow,  and  came  back 
to  the  summit  of  the  table-land.  They  then  circled  round 
the  edge  at  a  gallop,  and  finally  broke  madly  by  me,  jostling 
one  another  in  their  frantic  haste  and  crossed  by  a  small 
ridge  into  the  next  plateau  beyond  ;  as  they  went  by  I 
shot  a  yearling. 

I  now  had  all  the  venison  I  wished,  and  would  shoot 
no  more,  but  I  was  curious  to  see  how  the  antelope  would 
act,  and  so  walked  after  them.  They  ran  about  half  a  mile, 
and  then  the  whole  herd,  of  several  hundred  individuals, 
wheeled  into  line  fronting  me,  like  so  many  cavalry,  and 
stood  motionless,  the  white  and  brown  bands  on  their  necks 
looking  like  the  facings  on  a  uniform.  As  I  walked  near 
they  again  broke  and  rushed  to  the  end  of  the  valley. 
Evidently  they  feared  to  leave  the  flats  for  the  broken 
country  beyond,  where  the  rugged  hills  were  riven  by 
gorges,  in  some  of  which  snow  lay  deep  even  thus  early  in 
the  season.  Accordingly,  after  galloping  a  couple  of  times 
round  the  valley,  they  once  more  broke  by  me,  at  short 
range,  and  tore  back  along  the  plateaus  to  that  on  which 
I  had  first  found  them.  Their  evident  and  extreme  re- 
luctance to  venture  into  the  broken  country  round  about 
made  me  readily  understand  the  tales  I  had  heard  of  game 
butchers  killing  over  a  hundred  individuals  at  a  time  out 
of  a  herd  so  situated. 


82  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

I  walked  back  to  my  game,  dressed  it,  and  lashed  the 
saddles  and  hams  behind  me  on  my  horse ;  I  had  chosen 
old  Sorrel  Joe  for  the  trip  because  he  was  strong,  tough, 
and  quiet.  Then  I  started  for  the  ranch,  keeping  to  the 
prairie  as  long  as  I  could,  because  there  the  going  was 
easier ;  sometimes  I  rode,  sometimes  I  ran  on  foot  leading 
Sorrel  Joe. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  as  I  rode  over  a  roll  in  the 
prairie  I  saw  ahead  of  me  a  sight  very  unusual  at  that 
season  ;  a  small  emigrant  train  going  westward.  There 
were  three  white-topped  prairie  schooners,  containing  the 
household  goods,  the  tow-headed  children,  and  the  hard- 
faced,  bony  women ;  the  tired  horses  were  straining 
wearily  in  the  traces  ;  the  bearded,  moody  men  walked 
alongside.  They  had  been  belated  by  sickness,  and  the 
others  of  their  company  had  gone  ahead  to  take  up  claims 
along  the  Yellowstone  ;  now  they  themselves  were  push- 
ing forward  in  order  to  reach  the  holdings  of  their  friends 
before  the  first  deep  snows  stopped  all  travel.  They  had 
no  time  to  halt ;  for  there  were  still  two  or  three  miles  to 
go  that  evening  before  they  could  find  a  sheltered  resting- 
place  with  fuel,  grass,  and  water.  A  little  while  after  pass- 
ing them  I  turned  in  the  saddle  and  looked  back.  The 
lonely  little  train  stood  out  sharply  on  the  sky-line,  the 
wagons  looming  black  against  the  cold  red  west  as  they 
toiled  steadily  onward  across  the  snowy  plain. 

Night  soon  fell ;  but  I  cared  little,  for  I  was  on  ground 
I  knew.  The  old  horse  threaded  his  way  at  a  lope  along 
the  familiar  game  trails  and  cattle  paths  ;  in  a  couple  of 
hours  I  caught  the  gleam  from  the  firelit  windows  of  the 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  83 

ranch  house.  No  man  who,  for  his  good-fortune,  has  at 
times  in  his  life  endured  toil  and  hardship,  ever  fails^to 
appreciate  the  strong  elemental  pleasures  of  rest  after 
labor,  food  after  hunger,  warmth  and  shelter  after  bitter 
cold. 

So  much  for  the  winter  hunting.  But  in  the  fall, 
when  the  grass  is  dry  as  tinder,  the  antelope  hunter,  like 
other  plainsmen,  must  sometimes  face  fire  instead  of  frost. 
Fire  is  one  of  the  most  dreaded  enemies  of  the  ranchmen 
on  the  cattle  ranges  ;  and  fighting  a  big  prairie  fire  is  a 
work  of  extraordinary  labor,  and  sometimes  of  danger. 
The  line  of  flame,  especially  when  seen  at  night,  undulat- 
ing like  a  serpent,  is  very  beautiful ;  though  it  lacks  the 
terror  and  grandeur  of  the  great  forest  fires. 

One  October,  Ferguson  and  I,  with  one  of  the  cow- 
hands, and  a  friend  from  the  East,  took  the  wagon  for  an 
antelope  hunt  in  the  broken  country  between  the  Little 
Missouri  and  the  Beaver.  The  cowboy  drove  the  wagon 
to  a  small  spring,  near  some  buttes  which  are  well  distin- 
guished by  a  number  of  fossil  tree-stumps ;  while  the  rest 
of  us,  who  were  mounted  on  good  horses,  made  a  circle 
after  antelope.  We  found  none,  and  rode  on  to  camp, 
reaching  it  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon.  We  had 
noticed  several  columns  of  smoke  in  the  southeast,  show- 
ing that  prairie  fires  were  under  way  ;  but  we  thought 
that  they  were  too  far  off  to  endanger  our  camp,  and  ac- 
cordingly unsaddled  our  horses  and  sat  down  to  a  dinner 
of  bread,  beans,  and  coffee.  Before  we  were  through  the 
smoke  began  to  pour  over  a  ridge  a  mile  distant  in 
such  quantities  that  we  ran  thither  with  our  slickers, 


84  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

hoping  to  find  some  stretch  of  broken  ground  where  the 
grass  was  sparse,  and  where  we  could  fight  the  fire  with 
effect.  Our  hopes  were  vain.  Before  we  reached  the 
ridge  the  fire  came  over  its  crest,  and  ran  down  in  a  long 
tongue  between  two  scoria  buttes.  Here  the  grass  was 
quite  short  and  thin,  and  we  did  our  best  to  beat  out  the 
flames ;  but  they  gradually  gained  on  us,  and  as  they 
reached  the  thicker  grass  lower  down  the  slope,  they 
began  to  roar  and  dart  forward  in  a  way  that  bade  us  pay 
heed  to  our  own  safety.  Finally  they  reached  a  winding 
line  of  brushwood  in  the  bottom  of  the  coulie ;  and  as 
this  burst  into  a  leaping  blaze  we  saw  it  was  high  time 
to  look  to  the  safety  of  our  camp,  and  ran  back  to  it  at 
top  speed.  Ferguson,  who  had  been  foremost  in  fighting 
the  fire,  was  already  scorched  and  blackened. 

We  were  camped  on  the  wagon  trail  which  leads  along 
the  divide  almost  due  south  to  Sentinel  Butte.  The  line 
of  fire  was  fanned  by  a  southeasterly  breeze,  and  was 
therefore  advancing  diagonally  to  the  divide.  If  we  could 
drive  the  wagon  southward  on  the  trail  in  time  to  get  it 
past  the  fire  before  the  latter  reached  the  divide,  we  would 
be  to  windward  of  the  flames,  and  therefore  in  safety. 
Accordingly,  while  the  others  were  hastily  harnessing  the 
team,  and  tossing  the  bedding  and  provisions  into  the 
wagon,  I  threw  the  saddle  on  my  horse,  and  galloped 
down  the  trail,  to  see  if  there  was  yet  time  to  adopt  this 
expedient.  I  soon  found  that  there  was  not.  Half  a 
mile  from  camp  the  trail  dipped  into  a  deep  coulie,  where 
fair-sized  trees  and  dense  undergrowth  made  a  long  wind- 
ing row  of  brush  and  timber.  The  trail  led  right  under 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  85 

the  trees  at  the  upper  end  of  this  coulie.  As  I  galloped 
by  I  saw  that  the  fire  had  struck  the  trees  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  below  me  ;  in  the  dried  timber  it  instantly  sprang 
aloft  like  a  giant,  and  roared  in  a  thunderous  monotone 
as  it  swept  up  the  coulie.  I  galloped  to  the  hill  ridge 
ahead,  saw  that  the  fire  line  had  already  reached  the 
divide,  and  turned  my  horse  sharp  on  his  haunches.  As  I 
again  passed  under  the  trees,  the  fire,  running  like  a  race- 
horse in  the  brush,  had  reached  the  road  ;  its  breath  was 
hot  in  my  face ;  tongues  of  quivering  flame  leaped  over 
my  head  and  kindled  the  grass  on  the  hillside  fifty 
yards  away. 

When  I  got  back  to  camp  Ferguson  had  taken  meas- 
ures for  the  safety  of  the  wagon.  He  had  moved  it  across 
the  coulie,  which  at  this  point  had  a  wet  bottom,  making 
a  bar  to  the  progress  of  the  flames  until  they  had  time  to 
work  across  lower  down.  Meanwhile  we  fought  to  keep 
the  fire  from  entering  a  well-grassed  space  on  the  hither 
side  of  the  coulie,  between  it  and  a  row  of  scoria  buttes. 
Favored  by  a  streak  of  clay  ground,  where  the  grass  was 
sparse,  we  succeeded  in  beating  out  the  flame  as  it  reached 
this  clay  streak,  and  again  beating  it  out  when  it  ran 
round  the  buttes  and  began  to  back  up  towards  us  against 
the  wind.  Then  we  recrossed  the  coulie  with  the  wagon, 
before  the  fire  swept  up  the  farther  side ;  and  so,  when 
the  flames  passed  by,  they  left  us  camped  on  a  green  oasis 
in  the  midst  of  a  charred,  smoking  desert.  We  thus 
saved  some  good  grazing  for  our  horses. 

But  our  fight  with  the  fire  had  only  begun.  No  stock- 
man will  see  a  fire  waste  the  range  and  destroy  the  winter 


86  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

feed  of  the  stock  without  spending  every  ounce  of  his 
strength  in  the  effort  to  put  a  stop  to  its  ravages — even 
when,  as  in  our  case,  the  force  of  men  and  horses  at 
hand  is  so  small  as  to  offer  only  the  very  slenderest  hope 
of  success. 

We  set  about  the  task  in  the  way  customary  in  the 
cattle  country.  It  is  impossible  for  any  but  a  very  large 
force  to  make  head  against  a  prairie  fire  while  there  is  any 
wind  ;  but  the  wind  usually  fails  after  nightfall,  and 
accordingly  the  main  fight  is  generally  waged  during  the 
hours  of  darkness. 

Before  dark  we  drove  to  camp  and  shot  a  stray  steer, 
and  then  split  its  carcass  in  two  lengthwise  with  an  axe. 
After  sundown  the  wind  lulled ;  and  we  started  towards 
the  line  of  fire,  which  was  working  across  a  row  of  broken 
grassy  hills,  three  quarters  of  a  mile  distant.  Two  of  us 
were  on  horseback,  dragging  a  half  carcass,  bloody  side 
down,  by  means  of  ropes  leading  from  our  saddle-horns 
to  the  fore  and  hind  legs  ;  the  other  two  followed  on  foot 
with  slickers  and  wet  saddle  blankets.  There  was  a  red- 
dish glow  in  the  night  air,  and  the  waving,  bending  lines 
of  flame  showed  in  great  bright  curves  against  the  hill- 
sides ahead  of  us. 

When  we  reached  them,  we  found  the  fire  burning  in 
a  long,  continuous  line.  It  was  not  making  rapid  head- 
way, for  the  air  was  still,  and  the  flames  stood  upright, 
two  or  three  feet  high.  Lengthening  the  ropes,  one  of 
us  spurred  his  horse  across  the  fire  line  and  then,  wheel- 
ing, we  dragged  the  carcass  along  it ;  one  horseman  being 
on  the  burnt  ground,  and  one  on  the  unburnt  grass,  while 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  87 

the  body  of  the  steer  lay  lengthwise  across  the  line.  The 
weight  and  the  blood  smothered  the  fire  as  we  twitched 
the  carcass  over  the  burning  grass  ;  and  the  two  men  fol- 
lowing behind  with  their  blankets  and  slickers  readily 
beat  out  any  isolated  tufts  of  flame. 

The  fire  made  the  horses  wild,  and  it  was  not  always 
easy  to  manage  both  them  and  the  ropes,  so  as  to  keep 
the  carcass  true  on  the  line.  Sometimes  there  would  be 
a  slight  puff  of  wind,  and  then  the  man  on  the  grass  side 
of  the  line  ran  the  risk  of  a  scorching.  We  were  blackened 
with  smoke,  and  the  taut  ropes  hurt  our  thighs ;  while  at 
times  the  plunging  horses  tried  to  buck  or  bolt.  It  was 
worse  when  we  came  to  some  deep  gully  or  ravine,  break- 
ing the  line  of  fire.  Into  this  we  of  course  had  to  plunge, 
so  as  to  get  across  to  the  fire  on  the  other  side.  After 
the  glare  of  the  flame  the  blackness  of  the  ravine  was 
Stygian  ;  we  could  see  nothing,  and  simply  spurred  our 
horses  into  it  anywhere,  taking  our  chances.  Down  we 
would  go,  stumbling,  sliding,  and  pitching,  over  cut  banks 
and  into  holes  and  bushes,  while  the  carcass  bounded 
behind,  now  catching  on  a  stump,  and  now  fetching  loose 
with  a  "pluck"  that  brought  it  full  on  the  horses' 
haunches,  driving  them  nearly  crazy  with  fright.  The  pull 
up  the  opposite  bank  was,  if  anything,  worse. 

By  midnight  the  half  carcass  was  worn  through  ;  but 
we  had  stifled  the  fire  in  the  comparatively  level  country 
to  the  eastwards.  Back  we  went  to  camp,  drank  huge 
draughts  of  muddy  water,  devoured  roast  ox-ribs,  and 
dragged  out  the  other  half  carcass  to  fight  the  fire  on  the 
west.  But  after  hours  of  wearing  labor  we  found  our- 


88  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

selves  altogether  baffled  by  the  exceeding  roughness  of 
the  ground.  There  was  some  little  risk  to  us  who  were  on 
horseback,  dragging  the  carcass ;  we  had  to  feel  our  way 
along  knife-like  ridges  in  the  dark,  one  ahead  and  the 
other  behind,  while  the  steer  dangled  over  the  precipice 
on  one  side ;  and  in  going  down  the  buttes  and  into  the 
canyons  only  by  extreme  care  could  we  avoid  getting 
tangled  in  the  ropes  and  rolling  down  in  a  heap.  More- 
over the  fire  was  in  such  rough  places  that  the  carcass 
could  not  be  twitched  fairly  over  it,  and  so  we  could  not 
put  it  out.  Before  dawn  we  were  obliged  to  abandon 
our  fruitless  efforts  and  seek  camp,  stiffened  and  weary. 
From  a  hill  we  looked  back  through  the  pitchy  night  at 
the  fire  we  had  failed  to  conquer.  It  had  been  broken 
into  many  lines  by  the  roughness  of  the  chasm-strewn  and 
hilly  country.  Of  these  lines  of  flame  some  were  in  ad- 
vance, some  behind,  some  rushing  forward  in  full  blast 
and  fury,  some  standing  still ;  here  and  there  one  wheel- 
ing towards  a  flank,  or  burning  in  a  semicircle,  round  an 
isolated  hill.  Some  of  the  lines  were  flickering  out ;  gaps 
were  showing  in  others.  In  the  darkness  it  looked  like 
the  rush  of  a  mighty  army,  bearing  triumphantly  onwards, 
in  spite  of  a  resistance  so  stubborn  as  to  break  its  forma- 
tion into  many  fragments  and  cause  each  one  of  them  to 
wage  its  own  battle  for  victory  or  defeat. 

On  the  wide  plains  where  the  prong-buck  dwells  the 
hunter  must  sometimes  face  thirst,  as  well  as  fire  and  frost. 
The  only  time  I  ever  really  suffered  from  thirst  was  while 
hunting  prong-buck. 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  89 

It  was  late  in  the  summer.  I  was  with  the  ranch  wagon 
on  the  way  to  join  a  round-up,  and  as  we  were  out  of  meat 
I  started  for  a  day's  hunt.  Before  leaving  in  the  morning 
I  helped  to  haul  the  wagon  across  the  river.  It  was  for- 
tunate I  stayed,  as  it  turned  out.  There  was  no  regular 
ford  where  we  made  the  crossing ;  we  anticipated  no 
trouble,  as  the  water  was  very  low,  the  season  being  dry. 
However,  we  struck  a  quicksand,  in  which  the  wagon 
settled,  while  the  frightened  horses  floundered  helplessly. 
All  the  riders  at  once  got  their  ropes  on  the  wagon,  and 
hauling  from  the  saddle,  finally  pulled  it  through.  This 
took  time  ;  and  it  was  ten  o'clock  when  I  rode  away  from 
the  river,  at  which  my  horse  and  I  had  just  drunk — our 
last  drink  for  over  twenty-four  hours  as  it  turned  out. 

After  two  or  three  hours'  ride,  up  winding  coulies,  and 
through  the  scorched  desolation  of  patches  of  Bad  Lands, 
I  reached  the  rolling  prairie.  The  heat  and  drought  had 
long  burned  the  short  grass  dull  brown  ;  the  bottoms  of 
what  had  been  pools  were  covered  with  hard,  dry,  cracked 
earth.  The  day  was  cloudless,  and  the  heat  oppressive. 
There  were  many  antelope,  but  I  got  only  one  shot, 
breaking  a  buck's  leg ;  and  though  I  followed  it  for  a 
couple  of  hours  I  could  not  overtake  it.  By  this  time  it 
was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  I  was  far  away  from  the 
river ;  so  I  pushed  for  a  creek,  in  the  bed  of  which  I  had 
always  found  pools  of  water,  especially  towards  the  head, 
as  is  usual  with  plains  watercourses.  To  my  chagrin, 
however,  they  all  proved  to  be  dry ;  and  though  I  rode 
up  the  creek  bed  toward  the  head,  carefully  searching  for 


90  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

any  sign  of  water,  night  closed  on  me  before  I  found  any. 
For  two  or  three  hours  I  stumbled  on,  leading  my  horse, 
in  my  fruitless  search  ;  then  a  tumble  over  a  cut  bank  in 
the  dark  warned  me  that  I  might  as  well  stay  where  I  was 
for  the  rest  of  the  warm  night.  Accordingly  I  unsaddled 
the  horse,  and  tied  him  to  a  sage  brush  ;  after  awhile  he 
began  to  feed  on  the  dewy  grass.  At  first  I  was  too 
thirsty  to  sleep.  Finally  I  fell  into  slumber,  and  when 
I  awoke  at  dawn  I  felt  no  thirst.  For  an  hour  or  two 
more  I  continued  my  search  for  water  in  the  creek  bed ; 
then  abandoned  it  and  rode  straight  for  the  river.  By 
the  time  we  reached  it  my  thirst  had  come  back  with  re- 
doubled force,  my  mouth  was  parched,  and  the  horse  was 
in  quite  as  bad  a  plight ;  we  rushed  down  to  the  brink,  and 
it  seemed  as  if  we  could  neither  of  us  ever  drink  our  fill 
of  the  tepid,  rather  muddy  water.  Of  course  this  expe- 
rience was  merely  unpleasant ;  thirst  is  not  a  source  of 
real  danger  in  the  plains  country  proper,  whereas  in  the 
hideous  deserts  that  extend  from  southern  Idaho  through 
Utah  and  Nevada  to  Arizona,  it  ever  menaces  with  death 
the  hunter  and  explorer. 

In  the  plains  the  weather  is  apt  to  be  in  extremes ; 
the  heat  is  tropical,  the  cold  arctic,  and  the  droughts  are 
relieved  by  furious  floods.  These  are  generally  most 
severe  and  lasting  in  the  spring,  after  the  melting  of  the 
snow  ;  and  fierce  local  freshets  follow  the  occasional  cloud- 
bursts. The  large  rivers  then  become  wholly  impassable, 
and  even  the  smaller  are  formidable  obstacles.  It  is  not 
easy  to  get  cattle  across  a  swollen  stream,  where  the 
current  runs  like  a  turbid  mill-race  over  the  bed  of  shift- 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  91 

ing  quicksand.  Once  five  of  us  took  a  thousand  head  of 
trail  steers  across  the  Little  Missouri  when  the  river  was 
up,  and  it  was  no  light  task.  The  muddy  current  was 
boiling  past  the  banks,  covered  with  driftwood  and  foul 
yellow  froth,  and  the  frightened  cattle  shrank  from  enter- 
ing it.  At  last,  by  hard  riding,  with  much  loud  shouting 
and  swinging  of  ropes,  we  got  the  leaders  in,  and  the 
whole  herd  followed.  After  them  we  went  in  our  turn, 
the  horses  swimming  at  one  moment,  and  the  next  stag- 
gering and  floundering  through  the  quicksand.  I  was 
riding  my  pet  cutting  horse,  Muley,  which  has  the  pro- 
voking habit  of  making  great  bounds  where  the  water  is 
just  not  deep  enough  for  swimming  ;  once  he  almost 
unseated  me.  Some  of  the  cattle  were  caught  by  the 
currents  and  rolled  over  and  over ;  most  of  these  we 
were  able,  with  the  help  of  our  ropes,  to  put  on  their 
feet  again  ;  only  one  was  drowned,  or  rather  choked  in 
a  quicksand.  Many  swam  down  stream,  and  in  conse- 
quence struck  a  difficult  landing,  where  the  river  ran 
under  a  cut  bank  ;  these  we  had  to  haul  out  with  our 
ropes.  Both  men  and  horses  were  well  tired  by  the 
time  the  whole  herd  was  across. 

Although  I  have  often  had  a  horse  down  in  quick- 
sand, or  in  crossing  a  swollen  river,  and  have  had 
to  work  hard  to  save  him,  I  have  never  myself  lost 
one  under  such  circumstances.  Yet  once  I  saw  the 
horse  of  one  of  my  men  drown  under  him  directly  in 
front  of  the  ranch  house,  while  he  was  trying  to  cross 
the  river.  This  was  in  early  spring,  soon  after  the  ice 
had  broken. 


92  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

When  making  long  wagon  trips  over  the  great  plains, 
antelope  often  offer  the  only  source  of  meat  supply,  save 
for  occasional  water  fowl,  sage  fowl,  and  prairie  fowl — 
the  sharp-tailed  prairie  fowl,  be  it  understood.  This  is 
the  characteristic  grouse  of  the  cattle  country  ;  the  true 
prairie  fowl  is  a  bird  of  the  farming  land  farther  east. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  summer  of  '92  I  found  it 
necessary  to  travel  from  my  ranch  to  the  Black  Hills, 
some  two  hundred  miles  south.  The  ranch  wagon  went 
with  me,  driven  by  an  all-round  plainsman,  a  man  of  iron 
nerves  and  varied  past,  the  sheriff  of  our  county.  He 
was  an  old  friend  of  mine ;  at  one  time  I  had  served  as 
deputy-sheriff  for  the  northern  end  of  the  county.  In 
the  wagon  we  carried  our  food  and  camp  kit,  and  our 
three  rolls  of  bedding,  each  wrapped  in  a  thick,  nearly 
waterproof  canvas  sheet ;  we  had  a  tent,  but  we  never 
needed  it.  The  load  being  light,  the  wagon  was  drawn 
by  but  a  span  of  horses,  a  pair  of  wild  runaways,  tough, 
and  good  travellers.  My  foreman  and  I  rode  beside  the 
wagon  on  our  wiry,  unkempt,  unshod  cattle-ponies.  They 
carried  us  all  day  at  a  rack,  pace,  single-foot  or  slow  lope, 
varied  by  rapid  galloping  when  we  made  long  circles  after 
game  ;  the  trot,  the  favorite  gait  with  eastern  park-riders, 
is  disliked  by  all  peoples  who  have  to  do  much  of  their 
life-work  in  the  saddle. 

The  first  day's  ride  was  not  attractive.  The  heat  was 
intense  and  the  dust  stifling,  as  we  had  to  drive  some 
loose  horses  for  the  first  few  miles,  and  afterwards  to  ride 
up  and  down  the  sandy  river  bed,  where  the  cattle  had 
gathered,  to  look  over  some  young  steers  we  had  put  on 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  93 

the  range  the  preceding  spring.  When  we  did  camp  it 
was  by  a  pool  of  stagnant  water,  in  a  creek  bottom,  and 
the  mosquitoes  were  a  torment.  Nevertheless,  as  even- 
ing fell,  it  was  pleasant  to  climb  a  little  knoll  nearby  and 
gaze  at  the  rows  of  strangely  colored  buttes,  grass-clad, 
or  of  bare  earth  and  scoria,  their  soft  reds  and  purples 
showing  as  through  a  haze,  and  their  irregular  outlines 
gradually  losing  their  sharpness  in  the  fading  twilight. 

Next  morning  the  weather  changed,  growing  cooler, 
and  we  left  the  tangle  of  ravines  and  Bad  Lands,  striking 
out  across  the  vast  sea-like  prairies.  Hour  after  hour, 
under  the  bright  sun,  the  wagon  drew  slowly  ahead,  over 
the  immense  rolling  stretches  of  short  grass,  dipping 
down  each  long  slope  until  it  reached  the  dry,  imperfectly 
outlined  creek  bed  at  the  bottom, — wholly  devoid  of 
water  and  without  so  much  as  a  shrub  of  wood, — and 
then  ascending  the  gentle  rise  on  the  other  side  until  at 
last  it  topped  the  broad  divide,  or  watershed,  beyond 
which  lay  the  shallow  winding  coulies  of  another  creek 
system.  From  each  rise  of  ground  we  looked  far  and 
wide  over  the  sunlit  prairie,  with  its  interminable  undu- 
lations. The  sicklebill  curlews  which  in  spring,  while 
breeding,  hover  above  the  travelling  horseman  with  cease- 
less clamor,  had  for  the  most  part  gone  southward.  We 
saw  only  one  small  party  of  half  a  dozen  birds  ;  they  paid 
little  heed  to  us,  but  piped  to  one  another,  making  short 
flights,  and  on  alighting  stood  erect,  first  spreading  and 
then  folding  and  setting  their  wings  with  a  slow,  graceful 
motion.  Little  horned  larks  continually  ran  along  the 
ruts  of  the  faint  wagon  track,  just  ahead  of  the  team,  and 


94  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

twittered  plaintively  as  they  rose,  while  flocks  of  long- 
spurs  swept  hither  and  thither,  in  fitful,  irregular  flight. 

My  foreman  and  I  usually  rode  far  off  to  one  side  of 
the  wagon,  looking  out  for  antelope.  Of  these  we  at  first 
saw  few,  but  they  grew  more  plentiful  as  we  journeyed 
onward,  approaching  a  big  scantily  wooded  creek,  where 
I  had  found  the  prong-horn  abundant  in  previous  seasons. 
They  were  very  wary  and  watchful  whether  going  singly 
or  in  small  parties,  and  the  lay  of  the  land  made  it  exceed- 
ingly difficult  to  get  within  range.  The  last  time  I  had 
hunted  in  this  neighborhood  was  in  the  fall,  at  the  height 
of  the  rutting  season.  Prong-bucks,  even  more  than  other 
game,  seem  fairly  maddened  by  erotic  excitement.  At 
the  time  of  my  former  hunt  they  were  in  ceaseless  motion  ; 
each  master  buck  being  incessantly  occupied  in  herding 
his  harem,  and  fighting  would-be  rivals,  while  single  bucks 
chased  single  does  as  greyhounds  chase  hares,  or  else,  if 
no  does  were  in  sight,  from  sheer  excitement  ran  to  and 
fro  as  if  crazy,  racing  at  full  speed  in  one  direction,  then 
halting,  wheeling,  and  tearing  back  again  just  as  hard  as 
they  could  go. 

At  this  time,  however,  the  rut  was  still  some  weeks 
off,  and  all  the  bucks  had  to  do  was  to  feed  and  keep  a 
look-out  for  enemies.  Try  my  best,  I  could  not  get 
within  less  than  four  or  five  hundred  yards,  and  though  I 
took  a  number  of  shots  at  these,  or  at  even  longer,  dis- 
tances, I  missed.  If  a  man  is  out  merely  for  a  day's  hunt, 
and  has  all  the  time  he  wishes,  he  will  not  scare  the  game 
and  waste  cartridges  by  shooting  at  such  long  ranges, 
preferring  to  spend  half  a  day  or  more  in  patient  waiting 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  95 

and  careful  stalking  ;  but  if  he  is  travelling,  and  is  there- 
fore cramped  for  time,  he  must  take  his  chances,  even_at 
the  cost  of  burning  a  good  deal  of  powder. 

I  was  finally  helped  to  success  by  a  characteristic 
freak  of  the  game  I  was  following.  No  other  animals  are 
as  keen-sighted,  or  are  normally  as  wary  as  prong-horns ; 
but  no  others  are  so  whimsical  and  odd  in  their  behavior 
at  times,  or  so  subject  to  fits  of  the  most  stupid  curiosity 
and  panic.  Late  in  the  afternoon,  on  topping  a  rise  I 
saw  two  good  bucks  racing  off  about  three  hundred  yards 
to  one  side  ;  I  sprang  to  the  ground,  and  fired  three  shots 
at  them  in  vain,  as  they  ran  like  quarter-horses  until  they 
disappeared  over  a  slight  swell.  In  a  minute,  however, 
back  they  came,  suddenly  appearing  over  the  crest  of  the 
same  swell,  immediately  in  front  of  me,  and,  as  I  after- 
wards found  by  pacing,  some  three  hundred  and  thirty 
yards  away.  They  stood  side  by  side  facing  me,  and  re- 
mained motionless,  unheeding  the  crack  of  the  Win- 
chester ;  I  aimed  at  the  right-hand  one,  but  a  front  shot 
of  the  kind,  at  such  a  distance,  is  rather  difficult,  and  it 
was  not  until  I  fired  for  the  fourth  time  that  he  sank  back 
out  of  sight.  I  could  not  tell  whether  I  had  killed  him, 
and  took  two  shots  at  his  mate,  as  the  latter  went  off,  but 
without  effect.  Running  forward,  I  found  the  first  one 
dead,  the  bullet  having  gone  through  him  lengthwise  ;  the 
other  did  not  seem  satisfied  even  yet,  and  kept  hanging 
round  in  the  distance  for  some  minutes,  looking  at  us. 

I  had  thus  bagged  one  prong-buck,  as  the  net  outcome 
of  the  expenditure  of  fourteen  cartridges.  This  was 
certainly  not  good  shooting ;  but  neither  was  it  as  bad  as 


96  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

it  would  seem  to  the  man  inexperienced  in  antelope  hunt- 
ing. When  fresh  meat  is  urgently  needed,  and  when 
time  is  too  short,  the  hunter  who  is  after  antelope  in  an 
open  flattish  country  must  risk  many  long  shots.  In  no 
other  kind  of  hunting  is  there  so  much  long-distance  shoot- 
ing, or  so  many  shots  fired  for  every  head  of  game  bagged. 
Throwing  the  buck  into  the  wagon  we  continued  our 
journey  across  the  prairie,  no  longer  following  any  road, 
and  before  sunset  jolted  down  towards  the  big  creek  for 
which  we  had  been  heading.  There  were  many  water-holes 
therein,  and  timber  of  considerable  size  ;  box  alder  and 
ash  grew  here  and  there  in  clumps  and  fringes,  beside  the 
serpentine  curves  of  the  nearly  dry  torrent  bed,  the  growth 
being  thickest  under  the  shelter  of  the  occasional  low  bluffs. 
We  drove  down  to  a  heavily  grassed  bottom,  near  a  deep, 
narrow  pool,  with,  at  one  end,  that  rarest  of  luxuries  in  the 
plains  country,  a  bubbling  spring  of  pure,  cold  water.  With 
plenty  of  wood,  delicious  water,  ample  feed  for  the  horses, 
and  fresh  meat  we  had  every  comfort  and  luxury  incident 
to  camp  life  in  good  weather.  The  bedding  was  tossed 
out  on  a  smooth  spot  beside  the  wagon  ;  the  horses  were 
watered  and  tethered  to  picket  pins  where  the  feed  was 
best ;  water  was  fetched  from  the  spring  ;  a  deep  hole  was 
dug  for  the  fire,  and  the  grass  roundabout  carefully  burned 
off ;  and  in  a  few  moments  the  bread  was  baking  in  the 
Dutch  oven,  the  potatoes  were  boiling,  antelope  steaks  were 
sizzling  in  the  frying-pan,  and  the  kettle  was  ready  for 
the  tea.  After  supper,  eaten  with  the  relish  known  well 
to  every  hard-working  and  successful  hunter,  we  sat  for 
half  an  hour  or  so  round  the  fire,  and  then  turned  in 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  97 

under  the  blankets,  pulled  the  tarpaulins  over  us,  and  lis- 
tened drowsily  to  the  wailing  of  the  coyotes  until  we  fell 
sound  asleep. 

We  determined  to  stay  in  this  camp  all  day,  so  as  to 
try  and  kill  another  prong-buck,  as  we  would  soon  be  past 
the  good  hunting  grounds.  I  did  not  have  to  go  far 
for  my  game  next  morning,  for  soon  after  breakfast,  while 
sitting  on  my  canvas  bag  cleaning  my  rifle,  the  sheriff 
suddenly  called  to  me  that  a  bunch  of  antelope  were 
coming  towards  us.  Sure  enough  there  they  were,  four 
in  number,  rather  over  half  a  mile  off,  on  the  first  bench 
of  the  prairie,  two  or  three  hundred  yards  back  from  the 
creek,  leisurely  feeding  in  our  direction.  In  a  minute  or 
two  they  were  out  of  sight,  and  I  instantly  ran  along  the 
creek  towards  them  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  then 
crawled  up  a  short  shallow  coulie,  close  to  the  head  of 
which  they  seemed  likely  to  pass.  When  nearly  at  the 
end  I  cautiously  raised  my  hatless  head,  peered  through 
some  straggling  weeds,  and  at  once  saw  the  horns  of  the 
buck.  He  was  a  big  fellow,  about  a  hundred  and  twenty 
yards  off;  the  others,  a  doe  and  two  kids,  were  in  front. 
As  I  lifted  myself  on  my  elbows  he  halted  and  turned  his 
raised  head  towards  me ;  the  sunlight  shone  bright  on 
his  supple,  vigorous  body  with  its  markings  of  sharply 
contrasted  brown  and  white.  I  pulled  trigger,  and  away 
he  went ;  but  I  could  see  that  his  race  was  nearly  run, 
and  he  fell  after  going  a  few  hundred  yards. 

Soon  after  this  a  wind  storm  blew  up  so  violent  that 
we  could  hardly  face  it.  In  the  late  afternoon  it  died 
away,  and  I  again  walked  out  to  hunt,  but  saw  only  does 


98  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

and  kids,  at  which  I  would  not  shoot.  As  the  sun  set, 
leaving  bars  of  amber  and  pale  red  in  the  western  sky, 
the  air  became  absolutely  calm.  In  the  waning  evening 
the  low,  far-off  ridges  were  touched  with  a  violet  light ; 
then  the  hues  grew  sombre,  and  still  darkness  fell  on  the 
lonely  prairie. 

Next  morning  we  drove  to  the  river,  and  kept  near  it 
for  several  days,  most  of  the  time  following  the  tracks 
made  by  the  heavy  wagons  accompanying  the  trail  herds 
— this  being  one  of  the  regular  routes  followed  by  the 
great  throng  of  slow-moving  cattle  yearly  driven  from  the 
south.  At  other  times  we  made  our  own  road.  Twice 
or  thrice  we  passed  ranch  houses  ;  the  men  being  absent 
on  the  round-up  they  were  shut,  save  one  which  was 
inhabited  by  two  or  three  lean  Texan  cow-punchers,  with 
sun-burned  faces  and  reckless  eyes,  who  had  come  up  with 
a  trail  herd  from  the  Cherokee  strip.  Once,  near  the  old 
Sioux  crossing,  where  the  Dakota  war  bands  used  to 
ford  the  river  on  their  forays  against  the  Crows  and  the 
settlers  along  the  Yellowstone,  we  met  a  large  horse 
herd.  The  tough,  shabby,  tired-looking  animals,  one  or 
two  of  which  were  loaded  with  bedding  and  a  scanty 
supply  of  food,  were  driven  by  three  travel-worn,  hard- 
faced  men,  with  broad  hats,  shaps,  and  long  pistols  in 
their  belts.  They  had  brought  the  herd  over  plain  and 
mountain  pass  all  the  way  from  far  distant  Oregon. 

It  was  a  wild,  rough  country,  bare  of  trees  save  for 
a  fringe  of  cottonwoods  along  the  river,  and  occasional 
clumps  of  cedar  on  the  jagged,  brown  buttes  ;  as  we  went 
farther  the  hills  turned  the  color  of  chalk,  and  were 


Hunting  the  Prong-Buck.  99 

covered  with  a  growth  of  pine.  We  came  upon  acres  of 
sunflowers  as  we  journeyed  southward  ;  they  are  not  as  tall 
as  they  are  in  the  rich  bottom  lands  of  Kansas,  where  the 
splendid  blossoms,  on  their  strong  stalks,  stand  as  high  as 
the  head  of  a  man  on  horseback. 

Though  there  were  many  cattle  here,  big  game  was 
scarce.  However,  I  killed  plenty  of  prairie  chickens  and 
sage  hens  for  the  pot ;  and  as  the  sage  hens  were 
still  feeding  largely  on  crickets  and  grasshoppers,  and  not 
exclusively  on  sage,  they  were  just  as  good  eating  as  the 
prairie  chickens.  I  used  the  rifle,  cutting  off  their  heads 
or  necks,  and,  as  they  had  to  be  shot  on  the  ground,  and 
often  while  in  motion,  or  else  while  some  distance  away, 
it  was  more  difficult  than  shooting  off  the  heads  of  grouse 
in  the  mountains,  where  the  birds  sit  motionless  in  trees. 
The  head  is  a  small  mark,  while  to  hit  the  body  is  usually 
to  spoil  the  bird ;  so  I  found  that  I  averaged  three  or 
four  cartridges  for  every  head  neatly  taken  off,  the 
remaining  shots  representing  spoiled  birds  and  misses. 

For  the  last  sixty  or  seventy  miles  of  our  trip  we  left 
the  river  and  struck  off  across  a  great,  desolate  gumbo 
prairie.  There  was  no  game,  no  wood  for  fuel,  and  the 
rare  water-holes  were  far  apart,  so  that  we  were  glad 
when,  as  we  toiled  across  the  monotonous  succession  of 
long,  swelling  ridges,  the  dim,  cloud-like  mass,  looming 
vague  and  purple  on  the  rim  of  the  horizon  ahead  of  us, 
gradually  darkened  and  hardened  into  the  bold  outline  of 
the  Black  Hills. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

AMONG    THE     HIGH     HILLS  ;     THE     BIGHORN     OR     MOUNTAIN 

SHEEP. 

DURING  the  summer  of  1886  I  hunted  chiefly  to 
keep  the  ranch  in  meat.      It  was  a  very  pleasant 
summer;  although  it  was  followed  by  the  worst 
winter  we  ever  witnessed  on  the  plains.     I  was  much  at 
the  ranch,  where  I  had  a  good  deal  of  writing  to  do  ;  but 
every  week  or  two  I  left,  to  ride  among  the  line  camps,  or 
spend  a  few  days  on  any  round-up  which  happened  to  be 
in  the  neighborhood. 

These  days  of  vigorous  work  among  the  cattle  were 
themselves  full  of  pleasure.  At  dawn  we  were  in  the 
saddle,  the  morning  air  cool  in  our  faces  ;  the  red  sunrise 
saw  us  loping  across  the  grassy  reaches  of  prairie  land,  or 
climbing  in  single  file  among  the  rugged  buttes.  All  the 
forenoon  we  spent  riding  the  long  circle  with  the  cow- 
punchers  of  the  round-up  ;  in  the  afternoon  we  worked  the 
herd,  cutting  the  cattle,  with  much  breakneck  galloping 
and  dextrous  halting  and  wheeling.  Then  came  the  ex- 
citement and  hard  labor  of  roping,  throwing,  and  branding 
the  wild  and  vigorous  range  calves  ;  in  a  corral,  if  one  was 
handy,  otherwise  in  a  ring  of  horsemen.  Soon  after  night- 


100 


Among  the  High  Hills.  ior 

fall  we  lay  down,  in  a  log  hut  or  tent,  if  at  a  line  camp  ; 
under  the  open  sky,  if  with  the  round-up  wagon. 

After  ten  days  or  so  of  such  work,  in  which  every 
man  had  to  do  his  full  share — for  laggards  and  idlers,  no 
matter  who,  get  no  mercy  in  the  real  and  healthy  democ- 
racy of  the  round-up — I  would  go  back  to  the  ranch  to 
turn  to  my  books  with  added  zest  for  a  fortnight.  Yet 
even  during  these  weeks  at  the  ranch  there  was  some 
out-door  work  ;  for  I  was  breaking  two  or  three  colts.  I 
took  my  time,  breaking  them  gradually  and  gently,  not, 
after  the  usual  cowboy  fashion,  in  a  hurry,  by  sheer  main 
strength  and  rough  riding,  with  the  attendant  danger  to 
the  limbs  of  the  man  and  very  probable  ruin  to  the  man- 
ners of  the  horse.  We  rose  early  ;  each  morning  I  stood 
on  the  low-roofed  verandah,  looking  out  under  the  line  of 
murmuring,  glossy-leaved  cottonwoods,  across  the  shallow 
river,  to  see  the  sun  flame  above  the  line  of  bluffs  opposite. 
In  the  evening  I  strolled  off  for  an  hour  or  two's  walk,  rifle 
in  hand.  The  roomy,  homelike  ranch  house,  with  its  log 
walls,  shingled  roof,  and  big  chimneys  and  fireplaces,  stands 
in  a  glade,  in  the  midst  of  the  thick  forest,  which  covers 
half  the  bottom  ;  behind  rises,  bare  and  steep,  the  wall  of 
peaks,  ridges,  and  table-lands. 

During  the  summer  in  question,  I  once  or  twice  shot  a 
whitetail  buck  right  on  this  large  bottom  ;  once  or  twice  I 
killed  a  blacktail  in  the  hills  behind,  not  a  mile  from  the 
ranch  house.  Several  times  I  killed  and  brought  in  prong- 
bucks,  rising  before  dawn,  and  riding  off  on  a  good  horse 
for  an  all  day's  hunt  in  the  rolling  prairie  country  twelve 
or  fifteen  miles  away.  Occasionally  I  took  the  wagon  and 


Vo2  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

one  of  the  men,  driving  to  some  good  hunting  ground  and 
spending  a  night  or  two  ;  usually  returning  with  two  or 
three  prong-bucks,  and  once  with  an  elk — but  this  was 
later  in  the  fall.  Not  infrequently  I  went  away  by  myself 
on  horseback  for  a  couple  of  days,  when  all  the  men  were 
on  the  round-up,  and  when  I  wished  to  hunt  thoroughly 
some  country  quite  a  distance  from  the  ranch.  I  made 
one  such  hunt  in  late  August,  because  I  happened  to  hear 
that  a  small  bunch  of  mountain  sheep  were  haunting  a 
tract  of  very  broken  ground,  with  high  hills,  about  fifteen 
miles  away. 

I  left  the  ranch  early  in  the  morning,  riding  my  favorite 
hunting  horse,  old  Manitou.  The  blanket  and  oilskin 
slicker  were  rolled  and  strapped  behind  the  saddle ;  for 
provisions  I  carried  salt,  a  small  bag  of  hard  tack,  and  a 
little  tea  and  sugar,  with  a  metal  cup  in  which  to  boil  my 
water.  The  rifle  and  a  score  of  cartridges  in  my  woven 
belt  completed  my  outfit.  On  my  journey  I  shot  two 
prairie  chickens  from  a  covey  in  the  bottom  of  a  brush 
coulie. 

I  rode  more  than  six  hours  before  reaching  a  good  spot 
to  camp.  At  first  my  route  lay  across  grassy  plateaus, 
and  along  smooth,  wooded  coulies  ;  but  after  a  few  miles 
the  ground  became  very  rugged  and  difficult.  At  last  I 
got  into  the  heart  of  the  Bad  Lands  proper,  where  the 
hard,  wrinkled  earth  was  torn  into  shapes  as  sullen  and 
grotesque  as  those  of  dreamland.  The  hills  rose  high, 
their  barren  flanks  carved  and  channelled,  their  tops  mere 
needles  and  knife  crests.  Bands  of  black,  red,  and  purple 
varied  the  gray  and  yellow-brown  of  their  sides ;  the  tuixtt 


Among  the  High  Hills.  103 

of  scanty  vegetation  were  dull  green.  Sometimes  I  rode 
my  horse  at  the  bottom  of  narrow  washouts,  between 
straight  walls  of  clay,  but  a  few  feet  apart ;  sometimes  I 
had  to  lead  him  as  he  scrambled  up,  down,  and  across  the 
sheer  faces  of  the  buttes.  The  glare  from  the  bare  clay 
walls  dazzled  the  eye  ;  the  air  was  burning  under  the  hot 
August  sun.  I  saw  nothing  living  except  the  rattlesnakes, 
of  which  there  were  very  many. 

At  last,  in  the  midst  of  this  devil's  wilderness,  I  came 
on  a  lovely  valley.  A  spring  trickled  out  of  a  cedar 
canyon,  and  below  this  spring  the  narrow,  deep  ravine  was 
green  with  luscious  grass  and  was  smooth  for  some  hun- 
dred of  yards.  Here  I  unsaddled,  and  turned  old  Manitou 
loose  to  drink  and  feed  at  his  leisure.  At  the  edge  of  the 
dark  cedar  wood  I  cleared  a  spot  for  my  bed,  and  drew  a 
few  dead  sticks  for  the  fire.  Then  I  lay  down  and  watched 
drowsily  until  the  afternoon  shadows  filled  the  wild  and 
beautiful  gorge  in  which  I  was  camped.  This  happened 
early,  for  the  valley  was  very  narrow  and  the  hills  on 
either  hand  were  steep  and  high. 

Springing  to  my  feet,  I  climbed  the  nearest  ridge, 
and  then  made  my  way,  by  hard  clambering,  from  peak 
to  peak  and  from  crest  to  crest,  sometimes  crossing  and 
sometimes  skirting  the  deep  washouts  and  canyons. 
When  possible  I  avoided  appearing  on  the  sky  line,  and 
I  moved  with  the  utmost  caution,  walking  in  a  wide  sweep 
so  as  to  hunt  across  and  up  wind.  There  was  much 
sheep  sign,  some  of  it  fresh,  though  I  saw  none  of  the 
animals  themselves  ;  the  square  slots,  with  the  indented 
marks  of  the  toe  points  wide  apart,  contrasting  strongly 


104  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

with  the  heart-shaped  and  delicate  footprints  of  deer. 
The  animals  had,  according  to  their  habit,  beaten  trails 
along  the  summits  of  the  higher  crests ;  little  side  trails 
leading  to  any  spur,  peak,  or  other  vantage-point  from 
which  there  was  a  wide  outlook  over  the  country  round 
about. 

The  bighorns  of  the  Bad  Lands,  unlike  those  of  the 
mountains,  shift  their  range  but  little,  winter  or  summer. 
Save  in  the  breeding  season,  when  each  master  ram  gets 
together  his  own  herd,  the  ewes,  lambs,  and  yearlings  are 
apt  to  go  in  bands  by  themselves,  while  the  males  wan- 
der in  small  parties  ;  now  and  then  a  very  morose  old 
fellow  lives  by  himself,  in  some  precipitous,  out-of-the- 
way  retreat.  The  rut  begins  with  them  much  later  than 
with  deer ;  the  exact  time  varies  with  the  locality,  but  it 
is  always  after  the  bitter  winter  weather  has  set  in.  Then 
the  old  rams  fight  fiercely  together,  and  on  rare  occasions 
utter  a  long  grunting  bleat  or  call.  They  are  marvellous 
climbers,  and  dwell  by  choice  always  among  cliffs  and 
jagged,  broken  ground,  whether  wooded  or  not.  An  old 
bighorn  ram  is  heavier  than  the  largest  buck ;  his  huge, 
curved  horns,  massive  yet  supple  build,  and  proud  bear- 
ing mark  him  as  one  of  the  noblest  beasts  of  the  chase. 
He  is  wary ;  great  skill  and  caution  must  be  shown  in 
approaching  him  ;  and  no  one  but  a  good  climber,  with 
a  steady  head,  sound  lungs,  and  trained  muscles,  can  suc- 
cessfully hunt  him  in  his  own  rugged  fastnesses.  The 
chase  of  no  other  kind  of  American  big  game  ranks  higher, 
or  more  thoroughly  tests  the  manliest  qualities  of  the 
hunter. 


Among  the  High  Hills.  105 

1  walked  back  to  camp  in  the  gloaming,  taking  care 
to  reach  it  before  it  grew  really  dark ;  for  in  the  Bad 
Lands  it  is  entirely  impossible  to  travel,  or  to  find  any 
given  locality,  after  nightfall.  Old  Manitou  had  eaten 
his  fill,  and  looked  up  at  me  with  pricked  ears,  and  wise, 
friendly  face  as  I  climbed  down  the  side  of  the  cedar 
canyon  ;  then  he  came  slowly  towards  me  to  see  if  I  had 
not  something  for  him.  I  rubbed  his  soft  nose  and  gave 
him  a  cracker  ;  then  I  picketed  him  to  a  solitary  cedar, 
where  the  feed  was  good.  Afterwards  I  kindled  a  small 
fire,  roasted  both  prairie  fowl,  ate  one,  and  put  the  other 
by  for  breakfast ;  and  soon  rolled  myself  in  my  blanket, 
with  the  saddle  for  a  pillow,  and  the  oilskin  beneath. 
Manitou  was  munching  the  grass  nearby.  I  lay  just  out- 
side the  line  of  stiff  black  cedars ;  the  night  air  was  soft 
in  my  face  ;  I  gazed  at  the  shining  and  brilliant  multitude 
of  stars  until  my  eyelids  closed. 

The  chill  breath  which  comes  before  dawn  awakened 
me.  It  was  still  and  dark.  Through  the  gloom  I  could 
indistinctly  make  out  the  loom  of  the  old  horse,  lying 
down.  I  was  speedily  ready,  and  groped  and  stumbled 
slowly  up  the  hill,  and  then  along  its  crest  to  a  peak. 
Here  I  sat  down  and  waited  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  so, 
until  gray  appeared  in  the  east,  and  the  dim  light-streaks 
enabled  me  to  walk  farther.  Before  sunrise  I  was  two 
miles  from  camp ;  then  I  crawled  cautiously  to  a  high 
ridge  and  crouching  behind  it  scanned  all  the  landscape 
eagerly.  In  a  few  minutes  a  movement  about  a  third  of 
a  mile  to  the  right,  midway  down  a  hill,  caught  my  eye. 
Another  glance  showed  me  three  white  specks  moving 


io6  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

along  the  hillside.  They  were  the  white  rumps  of  three 
fine  mountain  sheep,  on  their  way  to  drink  at  a  little  al- 
kaline pool  in  the  bottom  of  a  deep,  narrow  valley.  In  a 
moment  they  went  out  of  sight  round  a  bend  of  the  val- 
ley ;  and  I  rose  and  trotted  briskly  towards  them,  along 
the  ridge.  There  were  two  or  three  deep  gullies  to  cross, 
and  a  high  shoulder  over  which  to  clamber ;  so  I  was  out 
of  breath  when  I  reached  the  bend  beyond  which  they 
had  disappeared.  Taking  advantage  of  a  scrawny  sage 
brush  as  cover  I  peeped  over  the  edge,  and  at  once  saw 
the  sheep,  three  big  young  rams.  They  had  finished 
drinking  and  were  standing  beside  the  little  mirey  pool, 
about  three  hundred  yards  distant.  Slipping  back  I 
dropped  down  into  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  where  a  nar- 
row washout  zigzagged  from  side  to  side,  between  straight 
walls  of  clay.  The  pool  was  in  the  upper  end  of  this 
washout,  under  a  cut  bank. 

An  indistinct  game  trail,  evidently  sometimes  used  by 
both  bighorn  and  blacktail,  ran  up  this  washout ;  the 
bottom  was  of  clay  so  that  I  walked  noiselessly ;  and  the 
crookedness  of  the  washout's  course  afforded  ample  secu- 
rity against  discovery  by  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  quarry.  In 
a  couple  of  minutes  I  stalked  stealthily  round  the  last 
bend,  my  rifle  cocked  and  at  the  ready,  expecting  to 
see  the  rams  by  the  pool.  However,  they  had  gone,  and 
the  muddy  water  was  settling  in  their  deep  hoof  marks. 
Running  on  I  looked  over  the  edge  of  the  cut  bank  and 
saw  them  slowly  quartering  up  the  hillside,  cropping  the 
sparse  tufts  of  coarse  grass.  I  whistled,  and  as  they 
stood  at  gaze  I  put  a  bullet  into  the  biggest,  a  little  too 


Among  the  High  Hills.  107 

far  aft  of  the  shoulder,  but  ranging  forward.  He  raced 
after  the  others,  but  soon  fell  behind,  and  turned  off1  on 
his  own  line,  at  a  walk,  with  drooping  head.  As  he  bled 
freely  I  followed  his  tracks,  found  him,  very  sick,  in  a 
washout  a  quarter  of  a  mile  beyond,  and  finished  him  with 
another  shot.  After  dressing  him,  and  cutting  off  the 
saddle  and  hams,  as  well  as  the  head,  I  walked  back  to 
camp,  breakfasted,  and  rode  Manitou  to  where  the  sheep 
lay.  Packing  it  securely  behind  the  saddle,  and  shifting 
the  blanket  roll  to  in  front  of  the  saddle-horn,  I  led 
the  horse  until  we  were  clear  of  the  Bad  Lands ;  then 
mounted  him,  and  was  back  at  the  ranch  soon  after  mid- 
day. The  mutton  of  a  fat  young  mountain  ram,  at  this 
season  of  the  year,  is  delicious. 

Such  quick  success  is  rare  in  hunting  sheep.  Gen- 
erally each  head  has  cost  me  several  days  of  hard,  faithful 
work ;  and  more  than  once  I  have  hunted  over  a  week 
without  any  reward  whatsoever.  But  the  quarry  is  so 
noble  that  the  ultimate  triumph — sure  to  come,  if  the 
hunter  will  but  persevere  long  enough — atones  for  all 
previous  toil  and  failure. 

Once  a  lucky  stalk  and  shot  at  a  bighorn  was  almost 
all  that  redeemed  a  hunt  in  the  Rockies  from  failure.  I 
was  high  among  the  mountains  at  the  time,  but  was  dogged 
by  ill  luck  ;  I  had  seen  but  little,  and  I  had  not  shot  very 
well.  One  morning  I  rose  early,  and  hunted  steadily  un- 
til midday  without  seeing  anything.  A  mountain  hunter 
was  with  me.  At  noon  we  sat  down  to  rest,  and  look 
over  the  country,  from  behind  a  shield  of  dwarf  evergreens, 
on  the  brink  of  a  mighty  chasm.  The  rocks  fell  down- 


io8  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

wards  in  huge  cliffs,  stern  and  barren  ;  from  far  below  rose 
the  strangled  roaring  of  the  torrent,  as  the  foaming  masses 
of  green  and  white  water  churned  round  the  boulders  in 
the  stream  bed.  Except  this  humming  of  the  wild  water, 
and  the  soughing  of  the  pines,  there  was  no  sound.  We 
were  sitting  on  a  kind  of  jutting  promontory  of  rock  so 
that  we  could  scan  the  cliffs  far  and  near.  First  I  took 
the  glasses  and  scrutinized  the  ground  almost  rod  by  rod, 
for  nearly  half  an  hour ;  then  my  companion  took  them 
in  turn.  It  is  very  hard  to  make  out  game,  especially 
when  lying  down,  and  still ;  and  it  is  curious  to  notice 
how,  after  fruitlessly  scanning  a  country  through  the 
glasses  for  a  considerable  period,  a  herd  of  animals  will 
suddenly  appear  in  the  field  of  vision  as  if  by  magic.  In 
this  case,  while  my  companion  held  the  glasses  for  the 
second  time,  a  slight  motion  caught  his  eye  ;  and  looking 
attentively  he  made  out,  five  or  six  hundred  yards  distant, 
a  mountain  ram  lying  among  some  loose  rocks  and  small 
bushes  at  the  head  of  a  little  grassy  cove  or  nook,  in  a 
shallow  break  between  two  walls  of  the  cliff.  So  well  did 
the  bluish  gray  of  its  body  harmonize  in  tint  with  the 
rocks  and  shrubbery  that  it  was  some  time  before  I  could 
see  it,  even  when  pointed  out  to  me. 

The  wind  was  favorable,  and  we  at  once  drew  back  and 
began  a  cautious  stalk.  It  was  impossible,  owing  to  the 
nature  of  the  cliffs  above  and  below  the  bighorn's  resting- 
place,  to  get  a  shot  save  by  creeping  along  nearly  on  a 
level  with  him.  Accordingly  we  worked  our  way  down 
through  a  big  cleft  in  the  rocks,  being  forced  to  go  very 
slowly  and  carefully  lest  we  should  start  a  loose  stone ; 


HEAD  OF  MOUNTAIN  RAM. 

SHOT  NOVEMBER,    188* 


Among  the  High  Hills.  109 

and  at  last  reached  a  narrow  terrace  of  rock  and  grass 
along  which  we  walked  comparatively  at  our  ease.  Soon 
it  dwindled  away,  and  we  then  had  to  do  our  only  difficult 
piece  of  climbing — a  clamber  for  fifty  or  sixty  feet  across 
c,  steep  cliff  shoulder.  Some  little  niches  and  cracks  in 
the  rock  and  a  few  projections  and  diminutive  ledges  on 
its  surface,  barely  enabled  us  to  swarm  across,  with  pains- 
taking care — not  merely  to  avoid  alarming  the  game  this 
time,  but  also  to  avoid  a  slip  which  would  have  proved 
fatal.  Once  across  we  came  on  a  long,  grassy  shelf,  lead- 
ing round  a  shoulder  into  the  cleft  where  the  ram  lay.  As 
I  neared  the  end  I  crept  forward  on  hands  and  knees,  and 
then  crawled  flat,  shoving  the  rifle  ahead  of  me,  until  I 
rounded  the  shoulder  and  peered  into  the  rift.  As  my 
eyes  fell  on  the  ram  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  with  a  clatter 
of  loose  stones,  and  stood  facing  me,  some  sixty  yards  off, 
his  dark  face  and  white  muzzle  brought  out  finely  by  the 
battered,  curved  horns.  I  shot  into  his  chest,  hitting  him 
in  the  sticking  place ;  and  after  a  few  mad  bounds  he 
tumbled  headlong,  and  fell  a  very  great  distance,  unfor- 
tunately injuring  one  horn. 

When  much  hunted,  bighorn  become  the  wariest  of 
all  American  game,  and  their  chase  is  then  peculiarly 
laborious  and  exciting.  But  where  they  have  known 
nothing  of  men,  not  having  been  molested  by  hunters, 
they  are  exceedingly  tame.  Professor  John  Bache  Mc- 
Master  informs  me  that  in  1877  he  penetrated  to  the 
Uintah  Mountains  of  Wyoming,  which  were  then  almost 
unknown  to  hunters  ;  he  found  all  the  game  very  bold, 
and  the  wild  sheep  in  particular  so  unsuspicious  that  he 


i  io  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

could  walk  up  to  within  short  rifle  range  of  them  in  the 
open. 

On  the  high  mountains  bighorn  occasionally  get  killed 
by  a  snow-slide.  My  old  friend,  the  hunter  Woody,  once 
saw  a  band  which  started  such  an  avalanche  by  running 
along  a  steep  sloping  snow  field,  it  being  in  the  spring ; 
for  several  hundred  yards  it  thundered  at  their  heels,  but 
by  desperate  racing  they  just  managed  to  get  clear. 
Woody  was  also  once  an  eye-witness  to  the  ravages  the 
cougar  commits  among  these  wild  sheep.  He  was  stalk- 
ing a  band  in  the  snow  when  he  saw  them  suddenly  scat- 
ter at  a  run  in  every  direction.  Coming  up  he  found  the 
traces  of  a  struggle,  and  the  track  of  a  body  being 
dragged  through  the  snow,  together  with  the  round  foot- 
marks of  the  cougar ;  a  little  farther  on  lay  a  dead  ewe, 
the  blood  flowing  from  the  fang  wounds  in  her  throat 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MOUNTAIN  GAME  ;    THE  WHITE  GOAT. 

LATE   one  August  I  started  on  a  trip  to  the  Big 
Hole  Basin,  in  Western  Montana,  to  hunt  white 
goats.     With  me  went  a  friend  of  many  hunts, 
John  Willis,  a  tried  mountain  man. 

We  left  the  railroad  at  the  squalid  little  hamlet  of 
Divide,  where  we  hired  a  team  and  wagon  from  a 
"  busted "  granger,  suspected  of  being  a  Mormon,  who 
had  failed,  even  with  the  help  of  irrigation,  in  raising  a 
crop.  The  wagon  was  in  fairly  good  order  ;  the  harness 
was  rotten,  and  needed  patching  with  ropes  ;  while  the 
team  consisted  of  two  spoiled  horses,  overworked  and 
thin,  but  full  of  the  devil  the  minute  they  began  to  pick 
up  condition.  However,  on  the  frontier  one  soon  grows 
to  accept  little  facts  of  this  kind  with  bland  indifference  ; 
and  Willis  was  not  only  an  expert  teamster,  but  possessed 
that  inexhaustible  fertility  of  resource  and  unfailing  readi- 
ness in  an  emergency  so  characteristic  of  the  veteran  of 
the  border.  Through  hard  experience  he  had  become 
master  of  plainscraft  and  woodcraft,  skilled  in  all  frontier 

lore. 

in 


H2  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

For  a  couple  of  days  we  jogged  up  the  valley  of  the 
Big  Hole  River,  along  the  mail  road.  At  night  we  camped 
under  our  wagon.  At  the  mouth  of  the  stream  the  valley 
was  a  mere  gorge,  but  it  broadened  steadily  the  farther 
up  we  went,  till  the  rapid  river  wound  through  a  wide 
expanse  of  hilly,  treeless  prairie.  On  each  side  the  moun- 
tains rose,  their  lower  flanks  and  the  foot-hills  covered 
with  the  evergreen  forest.  We  got  milk  and  bread  at  the 
scattered  log-houses  of  the  few  settlers  ;  and  for  meat  we 
shot  sage  fowl,  which  abounded.  They  were  feeding  on 
grasshoppers  at  this  time,  and  the  flesh,  especially  of  the 
young  birds,  was  as  tender  and  well  tasting  as  possible  ; 
whereas,  when  we  again  passed  through  the  valley  in 
September,  we  found  the  birds  almost  uneatable,  being 
fairly  bitter  with  sage.  Like  all  grouse  they  are  far  tamer 
earlier  in  the  season  than  later,  being  very  wild  in  winter  ; 
and,  of  course,  they  are  boldest  where  they  are  least 
hunted  ;  but  for  some  unexplained  reason  they  are  always 
tamer  than  the  sharp-tail  prairie  fowl  which  are  to  be 
found  in  the  same  locality. 

Finally  we  reached  the  neighborhood  of  the  Battle 
Ground,  where  a  rude  stone  monument  commemorates  the 
bloody  drawn  fight  between  General  Gibbons'  soldiers  and 
the  Nez  Percys  warriors  of  Chief  Joseph.  Here,  on  the 
third  day  of  our  journey,  we  left  the  beaten  road  and 
turned  towards  the  mountains,  following  an  indistinct  trail 
made  by  wood-choppers.  We  met  with  our  full  share  of 
the  usual  mishaps  incident  to  prairie  travel ;  and  towards 
evening  our  team  got  mired  in  crossing  a  slough.  We 
attempted  the  crossing  with  some  misgivings,  which  were 


Mountain  Game.  113 

warranted  by  the  result ;  for  the  second  plunge  of  the 
horses  brought  them  up  to  their  bellies  in  the  morass^ 
where  they  stuck.  It  was  freezing  cold,  with  a  bitter 
wind  blowing,  and  the  bog  holes  were  skimmed  with  ice ; 
so  that  we  passed  a  thoroughly  wretched  two  hours  while 
freeing  the  horses  and  unloading  the  wagon.  However, 
we  eventually  got  across  ;  my  companion  preserving  an 
absolutely  unruffled  temper  throughout,  perseveringly 
whistling  the  "  Arkansas  Traveller."  At  one  period, 
when  we  were  up  to  our  waists  in  the  icy  mud,  it  began 
to  sleet  and  hail,  and  I  muttered  that  I  would  "  rather  it 
did  n't  storm  "  ;  whereat  he  stopped  whistling  for  a  moment 
to  make  the  laconic  rejoinder,  "  We  're  not  having  our 
rathers  this  trip." 

At  nightfall  we  camped  among  the  willow  bushes  by  a 
little  brook.  For  firewood  we  had  only  dead  willow  sticks  ; 
they  made  a  hot  blaze  which  soon  died  out ;  and  as  the 
cold  grew  intense,  we  rolled  up  in  our  blankets  as  soon  as 
we  had  eaten  our  supper.  The  climate  of  the  Big  Hole 
Basin  is  alpine ;  that  night,  though  it  was  the  2Oth  of 
August,  the  thermometer  sank  to  10°  F. 

Early  next  morning  we  struck  camp,  shivering  with 
cold  as  we  threw  the  stiff,  frozen  harness  on  the  horses. 
We  soon  got  among  the  foot-hills,  where  the  forest  was 
open  and  broken  by  large  glades,  forming  what  is  called  a 
park  country.  The  higher  we  went  the  smaller  grew  the 
glades  and  the  denser  the  woodland ;  and  it  began  to  be 
very  difficult  to  get  the  wagon  forward.  In  many  places 
one  man  had  to  go  ahead  to  pick  out  the  way,  and  if 
necessary  do  a  little  chopping  and  lopping  with  the  axe, 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

while  the  other  followed  driving  the  team.  At  last  we 
were  brought  to  a  standstill,  and  pitched  camp  beside  a 
rapid,  alder-choked  brook  in  the  uppermost  of  a  series  of 
rolling  glades,  hemmed  in  by  mountains  and  the  dense 
coniferous  forest.  Our  tent  stood  under  a  grove  of  pines, 
close  to  the  brook ;  at  night  we  built  in  front  of  it  a  big 
fire  of  crackling,  resinous  logs.  Our  goods  were  sheltered 
by  the  wagon,  or  covered  with  a  tarpaulin  ;  we  threw  down 
sprays  of  odorous  evergreens  to  make  a  resting-place  for 
our  bedding ;  we  built  small  scaffolds  on  which  to  dry  the 
flesh  of  elk  and  deer.  In  an  hour  or  two  we  had  round  us 
all  the  many  real  comforts  of  such  a  little  wilderness  home. 

Whoever  has  long  roamed  and  hunted  in  the  wilderness 
always  cherishes  with  wistful  pleasure  the  memory  of 
some  among  the  countless  camps  he  has  made.  The 
camp  by  the  margin  of  the  clear,  mountain-hemmed  lake  ; 
the  camp  in  the  dark  and  melancholy  forest,  where  the 
gusty  wind  booms  through  the  tall  pine  tops  ;  the  camp 
under  gnarled  cottonwoods,  on  the  bank  of  a  shrunken 
river,  in  the  midst  of  endless  grassy  prairies, — of  these, 
and  many  like  them,  each  has  had  its  own  charm.  Of 
course  in  hunting  one  must  expect  much  hardship  and 
repeated  disappointment ;  and  in  many  a  camp,  bad 
weather,  lack  of  shelter,  hunger,  thirst,  or  ill  success  with 
game,  renders  the  days  and  nights  irksome  and  trying. 
Yet  the  hunter  worthy  of  the  name  always  willingly  takes 
the  bitter  if  by  so  doing  he  can  get  the  sweet,  and  gladly 
balances  failure  and  success,  spurning  the  poorer  souls 
who  know  neither. 

We  turned  our  horses  loose,  hobbling  one  ;  and  as  we 
did  not  look  after  them  for  several  days,  nothing  but  my 


Mountain  Game.  115 

companion's  skill  as  a  tracker  enabled  us  to  find  them 
again.  There  was  a  spell  of  warm  weather  which  brought 
out  a  few  of  the  big  bull-dog  flies,  which  drive  a  horse — 
or  indeed  a  man — nearly  frantic ;  we  were  in  the  haunts 
of  these  dreaded  and  terrible  scourges,  which  up  to  the 
beginning  of  August  render  it  impossible  to  keep  stock 
of  any  description  unprotected  where  they  abound,  but 
which  are  never  formidable  after  the  first  frost.  In  many 
parts  of  the  wilderness  these  pests,  or  else  the  incredible 
swarms  of  mosquitoes,  blackflies,  and  buffalo  gnats,  render 
life  not  worth  living  during  the  last  weeks  of  spring  and 
the  early  months  of  summer. 

There  were  elk  and  deer  in  the  neighborhood  ;  also 
ruffed,  blue,  and  spruce  grouse  ;  so  that  our  camp  was  soon 
stocked  with  meat.  Early  one  morning  while  Willis  was 
washing  in  the  brook,  a  little  black  bear  thrust  its  sharp 
nose  through  the  alders  a  few  feet  from  him,  and  then 
hastily  withdrew  and  was  seen  no  more.  The  smaller 
wild-folk  were  more  familiar.  As  usual  in  the  northern 
mountains,  the  gray  moose-birds  and  voluble,  nervous  little 
chipmunks  made  themselves  at  home  in  the  camp.  Parties 
of  chickadees  visited  us  occasionally.  A  family  of  flying 
squirrels  lived  overhead  in  the  grove  ;  and  at  nightfall 
they  swept  noiselessly  from  tree  to  tree,  in  long  graceful 
curves.  There  were  sparrows  of  several  kinds  moping 
about  in  the  alders  ;  and  now  and  then  one  of  them  would 
sing  a  few  sweet,  rather  mournful  bars. 

After  several  days'  preliminary  exploration  we  started 
on  foot  for  white  goat.  We  took  no  packs  with  us,  each 
carrying  merely  his  jacket,  with  a  loaf  of  bread  and  a 
paper  of  salt  thrust  into  the  pockets.  Our  aim  was  to  get 


n6  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

well  to  one  side  of  a  cluster  of  high,  bare  peaks,  and  then 
to  cross  them  and  come  back  to  camp ;  we  reckoned  that 
the  trip  would  take  three  days. 

All  the  first  day  we  tramped  through  dense  woods  and 
across  and  around  steep  mountain  spurs.  We  caught 
glimpses  of  two  or  three  deer  and  a  couple  of  elk,  all  does 
or  fawns,  however,  which  we  made  no  effort  to  molest. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  we  stumbled  across  a  family  of 
spruce  grouse,  which  furnished  us  material  for  both  sup- 
per and  breakfast.  The  mountain  men  call  this  bird  the 
fool-hen  ;  and  most  certainly  it  deserves  the  name.  The 
members  of  this  particular  flock,  consisting  of  a  hen  and 
her  three-parts  grown  chickens,  acted  with  a  stupidity 
unwonted  even  for  their  kind.  They  were  feeding  on  the 
ground  among  some  young  spruce,  and  on  our  approach 
flew  up  and  perched  in  the  branches  four  or  five  feet  above 
our  heads.  There  they  stayed,  uttering  a  low,  complaining 
whistle,  and  showed  not  the  slightest  suspicion  when  we 
came  underneath  them  with  long  sticks  and  knocked  four 
off  their  perches — for  we  did  not  wish  to  alarm  any  large 
game  that  might  be  in  the  neighborhood  by  firing.  One 
particular  bird  was  partially  saved  from  my  first  blow  by 
the  intervening  twigs  ;  however,  it  merely  flew  a  few  yards, 
and  then  sat  with  its  bill  open, — having  evidently  been  a 
little  hurt, — until  I  came  up  and  knocked  it  over  with  a 
better  directed  stroke. 

Spruce  grouse  are  plentiful  in  the  mountain  forests  of 
the  northern  Rockies,  and,  owing  to  the  ease  with  which 
they  are  killed,  they  have  furnished  me  my  usual  provender 
when  off  on  trips  of  this  kind,  where  I  carried  no  pack. 


Mountain  Game.  117 

They  are  marvellously  tame  and  stupid.  The  young  birds 
are  the  only  ones  I  have  ever  killed  in  this  manner  with  a 
stick ;  but  even  a  full  plumaged  old  cock  in  September  is 
easily  slain  with  a  stone  by  any  one  who  is  at  all  a  good 
thrower.  A  man  who  has  played  much  base-ball  need 
never  use  a  gun  when  after  spruce  grouse.  They  are  the 
smallest  of  the  grouse  kind  ;  the  cock  is  very  handsome, 
with  red  eyebrows  and  dark,  glossy  plumage.  Moreover, 
he  is  as  brave  as  he  is  stupid  and  good-looking,  and  in  the 
love  season  becomes  fairly  crazy  :  at  such  time  he  will 
occasionally  make  a  feint  of  attacking  a  man,  strutting,  flut- 
tering, and  ruffling  his  feathers.  The  flesh  of  the  spruce 
grouse  is  not  so  good  as  that  of  his  ruffed  and  blue 
kinsfolk ;  and  in  winter,  when  he  feeds  on  spruce  buds,  it 
is  ill  tasting.  I  have  never  been  able  to  understand  why 
closely  allied  species,  under  apparently  the  same  surround- 
ings, should  differ  so  radically  in  such  important  traits 
as  wariness  and  capacity  to  escape  from  foes.  Yet  the 
spruce  grouse  in  this  respect  shows  the  most  marked  con- 
trast to  the  blue  grouse  and  the  ruffed  grouse.  Of  course 
all  three  kinds  vary  greatly  in  their  behavior  accordingly 
as  they  do  or  do  not  live  in  localities  where  they  have 
been  free  from  man's  persecutions.  The  ruffed  grouse,  a 
very  wary  game  bird  in  all  old-settled  regions,  is  often 
absurdly  tame  in  the  wilderness  ;  and  under  persecution, 
even  the  spruce  grouse  gains  some  little  wisdom  ;  but  the 
latter  never  becomes  as  wary  as  the  former,  and  under  no 
circumstances  is  it  possible  to  outwit  the  ruffed  grouse  by 
such  clumsy  means  as  serve  for  his  simple-minded  brother. 
There  is  a  similar  difference  between  the  sage  fowl  and 


"8  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

prairie  fowl,  in  favor  of  the  latter.  It  is  odd  that  the  largest 
and  the  smallest  kinds  of  grouse  found  in  the  United 
States  should  be  the  tamest ;  and  also  the  least  savory. 

After  tramping  all  day  through  the  forest,  at  nightfall 
we  camped  in  its  upper  edge,  just  at  the  foot  of  the  steep 
rock  walls  of  the  mountain.  We  chose  a  sheltered  spot, 
where  the  small  spruce  grew  thick,  and  there  was  much 
dead  timber ;  and  as  the  logs,  though  long,  were  of  little 
girth,  we  speedily  dragged  together  a  number  sufficient  to 
keep  the  fire  blazing  all  night.  Having  drunk  our  full  at 
a  brook  we  cut  two  forked  willow  sticks,  and  then  each 
plucked  a  grouse,  split  it,  thrust  the  willow-fork  into  it,  and 
roasted  it  before  the  fire.  Besides  this  we  had  salt,  and 
bread  ;  moreover  we  were  hungry  and  healthily  tired  ;  so 
the  supper  seemed,  and  was,  delicious.  Then  we  turned 
up  the  collars  of  our  jackets,  and  lay  down,  to  pass  the 
night  in  broken  slumber ;  each  time  the  fire  died  down  the 
chill  waked  us,  and  we  rose  to  feed  it  with  fresh  logs. 

At  dawn  we  rose,  and  cooked  and  ate  the  two  remain- 
ing grouse.  Then  we  turned  our  faces  upwards,  and 
passed  a  day  of  severe  toil  in  climbing  over,  the  crags. 
Mountaineering  is  very  hard  work  ;  and  when  we  got 
high  among  the  peaks,  where  snow  filled  the  rifts,  the 
thinness  of  the  air  forced  me  to  stop  for  breath  every  few 
hundred  yards  of  the  ascent.  We  found  much  sign  of 
white  goats,  but  in  spite  of  steady  work  and  incessant 
careful  scanning  of  the  rocks,  we  did  not  see  our  quarry 
until  early  in  the  afternoon. 

We  had  clambered  up  one  side  of  a  steep  saddle  of 
naked  rock,  some  of  the  scarped  ledges  being  difficult, 


Mountain  Game.  119 

and  indeed  dangerous,  of  ascent.  From  the  top  of  the 
saddle  a  careful  scrutiny  of  the  neighboring  peaks  failed 
to  reveal  any  game,  and  we  began  to  go  down  the  other 
side.  The  mountain  fell  away  in  a  succession  of  low 
cliffs,  and  we  had  to  move  with  the  utmost  caution.  In 
letting  ourselves  down  from  ledge  to  ledge  one  would 
hold  the  guns  until  the  other  got  safe  footing,  and  then 
pass  them  down  to  him.  In  many  places  we  had  to  work 
our  way  along  the  cracks  in  the  faces  of  the  frost-riven 
rocks.  At  last,  just  as  we  reached  a  little  smooth  shoulder, 
my  companion  said,  pointing  down  beneath  us,  "  Look  at 
the  white  goat !  " 

A  moment  or  two  passed  before  I  got  my  eyes  on  it. 
We  were  looking  down  into  a  basin-like  valley,  surrounded 
by  high  mountain  chains.  At  one  end  of  the  basin  was  a 
low  pass,  where  the  ridge  was  cut  up  with  the  zigzag  trails 
made  by  the  countless  herds  of  game  which  had  travelled 
it  for  many  generations.  At  the  other  end  was  a  dark 
gorge,  through  which  a  stream  foamed.  The  floor  of  the 
basin  was  bright  emerald  green,  dotted  with  darker  bands 
where  belts  of  fir  trees  grew  ;  and  in  its  middle  lay  a 
little  lake. 

At  last  I  caught  sight  of  the  goat,  feeding  on  a  terrace 
rather  over  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  yards  below  me. 
I  promptly  fired,  but  overshot.  The  goat  merely  gave  a 
few  jumps  and  stopped.  My  second  bullet  went  through 
its  lungs  ;  but  fearful  lest  it  might  escape  to  some  inac- 
cessible cleft  or  ledge  I  fired  again,  missing  ;  and  yet 
again,  breaking  its  back.  Down  it  went,  and  the  next 
moment  began  to  roll  over  and  over,  from  ledge  to  ledge. 


120  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

I  greatly  feared  it  would  break  its  horns ;  an  annoying 
and  oft-recurring  incident  of  white-goat  shooting,  where 
the  nature  of  the  ground  is  such  that  the  dead  quarry 
often  falls  hundreds  of  feet,  its  body  being  torn  to  ribbons 
by  the  sharp  crags.  However  in  this  case  the  goat 
speedily  lodged  unharmed  in  a  little  dwarf  evergreen. 

Hardly  had  I  fired  my  fourth  shot  when  my  companion 
again  exclaimed,  "  Look  at  the  white  goats  !  look  at  the 
white  goats ! "  Glancing  in  the  direction  in  which  he 
pointed  I  speedily  made  out  four  more  goats  standing  in 
a  bunch  rather  less  than  a  hundred  yards  off,  to  one  side 
of  my  former  line  of  fire.  They  were  all  looking  up  at 
me.  They  stood  on  a  slab  of  white  rock,  with  which  the 
color  of  their  fleece  harmonized  well ;  and  their  black 
horns,  muzzles,  eyes,  and  hoofs  looked  like  dark  dots  on 
a  light-colored  surface,  so  that  it  took  me  more  than  one 
glance  to  determine  what  they  were.  White  goat  invari- 
ably run  up  hill  when  alarmed,  their  one  idea  seeming  to 
be  to  escape  danger  by  getting  above  it ;  for  their  brute 
foes  are  able  to  overmatch  them  on  anything  like  level 
ground,  but  are  helpless  against  them  among  the  crags. 
Almost  as  soon  as  I  saw  them  these  four  started  up  the 
mountain,  nearly  in  my  direction,  while  I  clambered  down 
and  across  to  meet  them.  They  halted  at  the  foot  of  a 
cliff,  and  I  at  the  top,  being  unable  to  see  them  ;  but  in 
another  moment  they  came  bounding  and  cantering  up 
the  sheer  rocks,  not  moving  quickly,  but  traversing  the 
most  seemingly  impossible  places  by  main  strength  and 
sure-footedness.  As  they  broke  by  me,  some  thirty  yards 
off,  I  fired  two  shots  at  the  rearmost,  an  old  buck, 


Mountain  Game. 

somewhat  smaller  than  the  one  I  had  just  killed  ;  and  he 
rolled  down  the  mountain  dead.  Two  of  the  others,  a 
yearling  and  a  kid,  showed  more  alarm  than  their  elders, 
and  ran  off  at  a  brisk  pace.  The  remaining  one,  an  old 
she,  went  off  a  hundred  yards,  and  then  deliberately 
stopped  and  turned  round  to  gaze  at  us  for  a  couple  of 
minutes  !  Verily  the  white  goat  is  the  fool-hen  among 
beasts  of  the  chase. 

Having  skinned  and  cut  off  the  heads  we  walked 
rapidly  onwards,  slanting  down  the  mountain  side,  and 
then  over  and  down  the  pass  of  the  game  trails  ;  for  it 
was  growing  late  and  we  wished  to  get  well  down  among 
the  timber  before  nightfall.  On  the  way  an  eagle  came 
soaring  over  head,  and  I  shot  at  it  twice  without  success. 
Having  once  killed  an  eagle  on  the  wing  with  a  rifle,  I 
always  have  a  lurking  hope  that  sometime  I  may  be  able 
to  repeat  the  feat.  I  revenged  myself  for  the  miss  by 
knocking  a  large  blue  goshawk  out  of  the  top  of  a  blasted 
spruce,  where  it  was  sitting  in  lazy  confidence,  its  crop 
stuffed  with  rabbit  and  grouse. 

A  couple  of  hours'  hard  walking  brought  us  down  to 
timber ;  just  before  dusk  we  reached  a  favorable  camping 
spot  in  the  forest,  beside  a  brook,  with  plenty  of  dead 
trees  for  the  night-fire.  Moreover,  the  spot  fortunately 
yielded  us  our  supper  too,  in  the  shape  of  a  flock  of  young 
spruce  grouse,  of  which  we  shot  off  the  heads  of  a  couple. 
Immediately  afterwards  I  ought  to  have  procured  our 
breakfast,  for  a  cock  of  the  same  kind  suddenly  flew  down 
nearby ;  but  it  was  getting  dark,  I  missed  with  the  first 
shot,  and  with  the  second  must  have  merely  creased  the 


122 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 


neck,  for  though  the  tough  old  bird  dropped,  it  fluttered 
and  ran  off  among  the  underbrush  and  escaped. 

We  broiled  our  two  grouse  before  our  fire,  dragged 
plenty  of  logs  into  a  heap  beside  it,  and  then  lay  down  to 
sleep  fitfully,  an  hour  or  so  at  a  time,  throughout  the 
night.  We  were  continually  wakened  by  the  cold,  when 
we  had  to  rise  and  feed  the  flames.  In  the  early  morning 
we  again  started,  walking  for  some  time  along  the  fresh 
trail  made  by  a  large  band  of  elk,  cows  and  calves.  We 
thought  we  knew  exactly  the  trend  and  outlet  of  the 
valley  in  which  we  were,  and  that  therefore  we  could  tell 
where  the  camp  was  ;  but,  as  so  often  happens  in  the 
wilderness,  we  had  not  reckoned  aright,  having  passed 
over  one  mountain  spur  too  many,  and  entered  the 
ravines  of  an  entirely  different  watercourse-system.  In 
consequence  we  became  entangled  in  a  network  of  hills 
and  valleys,  making  circle  after  circle  to  find  our  bear- 
ings ;  and  we  only  reached  camp  after  twelve  hours'  tire- 
some tramp  without  food. 

On  another  occasion  I  shot  a  white  goat  while  it  was 
in  a  very  curious  and  characteristic  attitude.  I  was 
hunting,  again  with  an  old  mountain  man  as  my  sole 
companion,  among  the  high  mountains  of  the  Kootenai 
country,  near  the  border  of  Montana  and  British  Colum- 
bia. We  had  left  our  main  camp,  pitched  by  the  brink 
of  the  river,  and  were  struggling  wearily  on  foot  through 
the  tangled  forest  and  over  the  precipitous  mountains, 
carrying  on  our  backs  light  packs,  consisting  of  a  little 
food  and  two  or  three  indispensable  utensils,  wrapped  in 
our  blankets.  One  day  we  came  to  the  foot  of  a  great 


Mountain  Game.  123 

chain  of  bare  rocks,  and  climbed  laboriously  to  its  crest, 
up  cliff  after  cliff,  some  of  which  were  almost  perpendi£i> 
lar.  Swarming  round  certain  of  the  rock  shoulders, 
crossing  an  occasional  sheer  chasm,  and  in  many  places 
clinging  to  steep,  smooth  walls  by  but  slight  holds,  we 
reached  the  top.  The  climbing  at  such  a  height  was 
excessively  fatiguing  ;  moreover,  it  was  in  places  difficult 
and  even  dangerous.  Of  course  it  was  not  to  be  com- 
pared to  the  ascent  of  towering,  glacier-bearing  peaks, 
such  as  those  of  the  Selkirks  and  Alaska,  where  climbers 
must  be  roped  to  one  another  and  carry  ice  axes. 

Once  at  the  top  we  walked  very  cautiously,  being 
careful  not  to  show  ourselves  against  the  sky  line,  and 
scanning  the  mountain  sides  through  our  glasses.  At  last 
we  made  out  three  goats,  grazing  unconcernedly  on  a 
narrow  grassy  terrace,  which  sloped  abruptly  to  the  brink 
of  a  high  precipice.  They  were  not  very  far  off,  and 
there  was  a  little  rock  spur  above  them  which  offered  good 
cover  for  a  stalk  ;  but  we  had  to  crawl  so  slowly,  partly 
to  avoid  falling,  and  partly  to  avoid  detaching  loose  rocks, 
that  it  was  nearly  an  hour  before  we  got  in  a  favorable 
position  above  them,  and  some  seventy  yards  off.  The 
frost-disintegrated  mountains  in  which  they  live  are 
always  sending  down  showers  of  detached  stones,  so  that 
the  goats  are  not  very  sensitive  to  this  noise ;  still,  they 
sometimes  pay  instantaneous  heed  to  it,  especially  if  the 
sound  is  repeated. 

When  I  peeped  over  the  little  ridge  of  rock,  shoving 
my  rifle  carefully  ahead  of  me,  I  found  that  the  goats  had 
finished  feeding  and  were  preparing  to  leave  the  slope. 


124  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

The  old  billy  saw  me  at  once,  but  evidently  could  not 
quite  make  me  out.  Thereupon,  gazing  intently  at  me, 
he  rose  gravely  on  his  haunches,  sitting  up  almost  in  the 
attitude  of  a  dog  when  begging.  I  know  no  other  horned 
animal  that  ever  takes  this  position. 

As  I  fired  he  rolled  backwards,  slipped  down  the 
grassy  slope,  and  tumbled  over  the  brink  of  the  cliff, 
while  the  other  two,  a  she  and  a  kid,  after  a  moment's 
panic-struck  pause,  and  a  bewildered  rush  in  the  wrong 
direction,  made  off  up  a  little  rocky  gully,  and  were 
out  of  sight  in  a  moment.  To  my  chagrin  when  I 
finally  reached  the  carcass,  after  a  tedious  and  circu- 
itous climb  to  the  foot  of  the  cliff,  I  found  both  horns 
broken  off. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  we  clambered  down 
to  the  border  of  a  little  marshy  alpine  lake,  which  we 
reached  in  an  hour  or  so.  Here  we  made  our  camp 
about  sunset,  in  a  grove  of  stunted  spruces,  which  fur- 
nished plenty  of  dead  timber  for  the  fire.  There  were 
many  white-goat  trails  leading  to  this  lake,  and  from  the 
slide  rock  roundabout  we  heard  the  shrill  whistling  of 
hoary  rock-woodchucks,  and  the  querulous  notes  of  the 
little  conies — two  of  the  sounds  most  familiar  to  the 
white-goat  hunter.  These  conies  had  gathered  heaps  of 
dried  plants,  and  had  stowed  them  carefully  away  for 
winter  use  in  the  cracks  between  the  rocks. 

While  descending  the  mountain  we  came  on  a  little 
pack  of  snow  grouse  or  mountain  ptarmigan,  birds  which, 
save  in  winter,  are  always  found  above  timber  line.  They 
were  tame  and  fearless,  though  hard  to  make  out  as  they 


HEAD  OF   WHITE   GOAT. 


SHOT  AUGUST,   1889. 


Mountain  Game.  125 

ran  among  the  rocks,  cackling  noisily,  with  their  tails 
cocked  aloft ;  and  we  had  no  difficulty  in  killing  four, 
which  gave  us  a  good  breakfast  and  supper.  Old  white 
goats  are  intolerably  musky  in  flavor,  there  being  a  very 
large  musk-pod  between  the  horn  and  ear.  The  kids  are 
eatable,  but  of  course  are  rarely  killed  ;  the  shot  being 
usually  taken  at  the  animal  with  best  horns — and  the  shes 
and  young  of  any  game  should  only  be  killed  when  there 
is  a  real  necessity. 

These  two  hunts  may  be  taken  as  samples  of  most 
expeditions  after  white  goat.  There  are  places  where  the 
goats  live  in  mountains  close  to  bodies  of  water,  either 
ocean  fiords  or  large  lakes  ;  and  in  such  places  canoes  can 
be  used,  to  the  greatly  increased  comfort  and  lessened 
labor  of  the  hunters.  In  other  places,  where  the  moun- 
tains are  low  and  the  goats  spend  all  the  year  in  the 
timber,  a  pack-train  can  be  taken  right  up  to  the  hunting 
grounds.  But  generally  one  must  go  on  foot,  carrying 
everything  on  one's  back,  and  at  night  lying  out  in  the 
open  or  under  a  brush  lean-to  ;  meanwhile  living  on  spruce 
grouse  and  ptarmigan,  with  an  occasional  meal  of  trout, 
and  in  times  of  scarcity  squirrels,  or  anything  else.  Such 
a  trip  entails  severe  fatigue  and  not  a  little  hardship.  The 
actual  hunting,  also,  implies  difficult  and  laborious  climb- 
ing, for  the  goats  live  by  choice  among  the  highest  and 
most  inaccessible  mountains ;  though  where  they  are  found, 
as  they  sometimes  are,  in  comparatively  low  forest-clad 
ranges,  I  have  occasionally  killed  them  with  little  trouble 
by  lying  in  wait  beside  the  well-trodden  game  trails  they 
make  in  the  timber. 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

In  any  event  the  hard  work  is  to  get  up  to  the  grounds 
where  the  game  is  found.  Once  the  animals  are  spied 
there  is  but  little  call  for  the  craft  of  the  still-hunter  in 
approaching  them.  Of  all  American  game  the  white  goat 
is  the  least  wary  and  most  stupid.  In  places  where  it  is 
much  hunted  it  of  course  gradually  grows  wilder  and 
becomes  difficult  to  approach  and  kill ;  and  much  of  its 
silly  tameness  is  doubtless  due  to  the  inaccessible  nature 
of  its  haunts,  which  renders  it  ordinarily  free  from  molesta- 
tion ;  but  aside  from  this  it  certainly  seems  as  if  it  was 
naturally  less  wary  than  either  deer  or  mountain  sheep. 
The  great  point  is  to  get  above  it.  All  its  foes  live  in  the 
valleys,  and  while  it  is  in  the  mountains,  if  they  strive  to 
approach  it  at  all,  they  must  do  so  from  below.  It  is  in 
consequence  always  on  the  watch  for  danger  from  beneath  ; 
but  it  is  easily  approached  from  above,  and  then,  as  it 
generally  tries  to  escape  by  running  up  hill,  the  hunter  is 
very  apt  to  get  a  shot. 

Its  chase  is  thus  laborious  rather  than  exciting  ;  and  to 
my  mind  it  is  less  attractive  than  is  the  pursuit  of  most  of 
our  other  game.  Yet  it  has  an  attraction  of  its  own  after 
all ;  while  the  grandeur  of  the  scenery  amid  which  it  must 
be  carried  on,  the  freedom  and  hardihood  of  the  life  and 
the  pleasure  of  watching  the  queer  habits  of  the  game,  all 
combine  to  add  to  the  hunter's  enjoyment. 

White  goats  are  self-confident,  pugnacious  beings.  An 
old  billy,  if  he  discovers  the  presence  of  a  foe  without  being 
quite  sure  what  it  is,  often  refuses  to  take  flight,  but 
walks  around,  stamping,  and  shaking  his  head.  The 
needle-pointed  black  horns  are  alike  in  both  sexes,  save 


Mountain  Game.  127 

that  the  males'  are  a  trifle  thicker ;  and  they  are  most 
effective  weapons  when  wielded  by  the  muscular  neck__of 
a  resolute  and  wicked  old  goat.  They  wound  like  stilettos 
and  their  bearer  is  in  consequence  a  much  more  formidable 
foe  in  a  hand-to-hand  struggle  than  either  a  branching- 
antlered  deer  or  a  mountain  ram,  with  his  great  battering 
head.  The  goat  does  not  butt ;  he  thrusts.  If  he  can 
cover  his  back  by  a  tree  trunk  or  boulder  he  can  stand  off 
most  carnivorous  animals,  no  larger  than  he  is. 

Though  awkward  in  movement,  and  lacking  all  sem- 
blance of  lightness  or  agility,  goats  are  excellent  climbers. 
One  of  their  queer  traits  is  their  way  of  getting  their  fore- 
hoofs  on  a  slight  ledge,  and  then  drawing  or  lifting  their 
bodies  up  by  simple  muscular  exertion,  stretching  out 
their  elbows,  much  as  a  man  would.  They  do  a  good  deal 
of  their  climbing  by  strength  and  command  over  their 
muscles  ;  although  they  are  also  capable  of  making  aston- 
ishing bounds.  If  a  cliff  surface  has  the  least  slope,  and 
shows  any  inequalities  or  roughness  whatever,  goats  can  go 
up  and  down  it  with  ease.  With  their  short,  stout  legs, 
and  large,  sharp-edged  hoofs  they  clamber  well  over  ice, 
passing  and  repassing  the  mountains  at  a  time  when  no  man 
would  so  much  as  crawl  over  them.  They  bear  extreme 
cold  with  indifference,  but  are  intolerant  of  much  heat ; 
even  when  the  weather  is  cool  they  are  apt  to  take  their 
noontide  rest  in  caves  ;  I  have  seen  them  solemnly  retiring, 
for  this  purpose,  to  great  rents  in  the  rocks,  at  a  time  when 
my  own  teeth  chattered  because  of  the  icy  wind. 

They  go  in  small  flocks  ;  sometimes  in  pairs  or  little 
family  parties.  After  the  rut  the  bucks  often  herd  by 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

themselves,  or  go  off  alone,  while  the  young  and  the  shes 
keep  together  throughout  the  winter  and  the  spring.  The 
young  are  generally  brought  forth  above  timber  line,  or  at 
its  uppermost  edge,  save  of  course  in  those  places  where 
the  goats  live  among  mountains  wooded  to  the  top. 
Throughout  the  summer  they  graze  on  the  short  mountain 
plants  which  in  many  places  form  regular  mats  above  tim- 
ber line  ;  the  deep  winter  snows  drive  them  low  down  in 
the  wooded  valleys,  and  force  them  to  subsist  by  browsing. 
They  are  so  strong  that  they  plough  their  way  readily 
through  deep  drifts  ;  and  a  flock  of  goats  at  this  season, 
when  their  white  coat  is  very  long  and  thick,  if  seen  wad- 
dling off  through  the  snow,  have  a  comical  likeness  to  so 
many  diminutive  polar  bears.  Of  course  they  could  easily 
be  run  down  in  the  snow  by  a  man  on  snowshoes,  in  the 
plain  ;  but  on  a  mountain  side  there  are  always  bare  rocks 
and  cliff  shoulders,  glassy  with  winter  ice,  which  give  either 
goats  or  sheep  an  advantage  over  their  snowshoe-bearing 
foes  that  deer  and  elk  lack.  Whenever  the  goats  pass 
the  winter  in  woodland  they  leave  plenty  of  sign  in  the 
shape  of  patches  of  wool  clinging  to  all  the  sharp  twigs  and 
branches  against  which  they  have  brushed.  In  the  spring 
they  often  form  the  habit  of  drinking  at  certain  low  pools, 
to  which  they  beat  deep  paths ;  and  at  this  season,  and  to 
a  less  extent  in  the  summer  and  fall,  they  are  very  fond  of 
frequenting  mineral  licks.  At  any  such  lick  the  ground  is 
tramped  bare  of  vegetation,  and  is  filled  with  pits  and  hol- 
lows, actually  dug  by  the  tongues  of  innumerable  genera- 
tions of  animals  ;  while  the  game  paths  lead  from  them  in 
a  dozen  directions. 


Mountain  Game.  129 

In  spite  of  the  white  goat's  pugnacity,  its  clumsiness 
renders  it  no  very  difficult  prey  when  taken  unawares  by, 
either  wolf  or  cougar,  its  two  chief  enemies.  They  cannot 
often  catch  it  when  it  is  above  timber  line  ;  but  it  is  always 
in  sore  peril  from  them  when  it  ventures  into  the  forest. 
Bears,  also,  prey  upon  it  in  the  early  spring  ;  and  one  mid- 
winter my  friend  Willis  found  a  wolverine  eating  a  goat 
which  it  had  killed  in  a  snowdrift  at  the  foot  of  a  cliff. 
The  savage  little  beast  growled  and  showed  fight  when 
he  came  near  the  body.  Eagles  are  great  enemies  of 
the  young  kids,  as  they  are  of  the  young  lambs  of  the 
bighorn. 

The  white  goat  is  the  only  game  beast  of  America 
which  has  not  decreased  in  numbers  since  the  arrival  of  the 
white  man.  Although  in  certain  localities  it  is  now  decreas- 
ing, yet,  taken  as  a  whole,  it  is  probably  quite  as  plentiful 
now  as  it  was  fifty  years  back ;  for  in  the  early  part  of  the 
present  century  there  were  Indian  tribes  who  hunted  it 
perseveringly  to  make  the  skins  into  robes,  whereas  now 
they  get  blankets  from  the  traders  and  no  longer  persecute 
the  goats.  The  early  trappers  and  mountain-men  knew 
but  little  of  the  animal.  Whether  they  were  after  beaver, 
or  were  hunting  big  game,  or  were  merely  exploring,  they 
kept  to  the  valleys  ;  there  was  no  inducement  for  them  to 
climb  to  the  tops  of  the  mountains ;  so  it  resulted  that  there 
was  no  animal  with  which  the  old  hunters  were  so  un- 
familiar as  with  the  white  goat.  The  professional  hunters 
of  to-day  likewise  bother  it  but  little  ;  they  do  not  care 
to  undergo  severe  toil  for  an  animal  with  worthless  flesh 
and  a  hide  of  little  value — for  it  is  only  in  the  late  fall  and 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

winter  that  the  long  hair  and  fine  wool  give  the  robe  any 
beauty. 

So  the  quaint,  sturdy,  musky  beasts,  with  their  queer 
and  awkward  ways,  their  boldness  and  their  stupidity,  with 
their  white  coats  and  big  black  hoofs,  black  muzzles,  and 
sharp,  gently-curved  span-long  black  horns,  have  held 
their  own  well  among  the  high  mountains  that  they  love. 
In  the  Rockies  and  the  Coast  ranges  they  abound  from 
Alaska  south  to  Montana,  Idaho,  and  Washington  ;  and 
here  and  there  isolated  colonies  are  found  among  the  high 
mountains  to  the  southward,  in  Wyoming,  Colorado, 
even  in  New  Mexico,  and,  strangest  of  all,  in  one  or  two 
spots  among  the  barren  coast  mountains  of  southern  Cal- 
ifornia. Long  after  the  elk  has  followed  the  buffalo  to 
the  happy  hunting  grounds  the  white  goat  will  flourish 
among  the  towering  and  glacier-riven  peaks,  and,  grown 
wary  with  succeeding  generations,  will  furnish  splendid 
sport  to  those  hunters  who  are  both  good  riflemen  and 
hardy  cragsmen. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


HUNTING  IN  THE  SELKIRKS  ;  THE  CARIBOU. 

IN  September,  1888,  I  was  camped  on  the  shores  of 
Kootenai  Lake,  having  with  me  as  companions, 
John  Willis  and  an  impassive-looking  Indian  named 
Ammal.  Coming  across  through  the  dense  coniferous  for- 
ests of  northern  Idaho  we  had  struck  the  Kootenai  River. 
Then  we  went  down  with  the  current  as  it  wound  in  half 
circles  through  a  long  alluvial  valley  of  mixed  marsh  and 
woodland,  hemmed  in  by  lofty  mountains.  The  lake  it- 
self, when  we  reached  it,  stretched  straight  away  like  a 
great  fiord,  a  hundred  miles  long  and  about  three  in 
breadth.  The  frowning  and  rugged  Selkirks  came  down 
sheer  to  the  water's  edge.  So  straight  were  the  rock 
walls  that  it  was  difficult  for  us  to  land  with  our  batteau, 
save  at  the  places  where  the  rapid  mountain  torrents 
entered  the  lake.  As  these  streams  of  swift  water  broke 
from  their  narrow  gorges  they  made  little  deltas  of  level 
ground,  with  beaches  of  fine  white  sand  ;  and  the  stream- 
banks  were  edged  with  cottonwood  and  poplar,  their 
shimmering  foliage  relieving  the  sombre  coloring  of  the 
evergreen  forest. 

131 


i32  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Close  to  such  a  brook,  from  which  we  drew  strings  of 
large  silver  trout,  our  tent  was  pitched,  just  within  the 
forest.  From  between  the  trunks  of  two  gnarled,  wind- 
beaten  trees,  a  pine  and  a  cottonwood,  we  looked  out 
across  the  lake.  The  little  bay  in  our  front,  in  which  we 
bathed  and  swam,  was  sometimes  glassily  calm  ;  and  again 
heavy  wind  squalls  arose,  and  the  surf  beat  strongly  on 
the  beach  where  our  boat  was  drawn  up.  Now  and  then 
great  checker-back  loons  drifted  buoyantly  by,  stopping 
with  bold  curiosity  to  peer  at  the  white  tent  gleaming 
between  the  tree-trunks,  and  at  the  smoke  curling  above 
their  tops  ;  and  they  called  to  one  another,  both  at  dawn 
and  in  the  daytime,  with  shrieks  of  unearthly  laughter. 
Troops  of  noisy,  parti-colored  Clark's  crows  circled  over 
the  tree-tops  or  hung  from  among  the  pine  cones ;  jays 
and  chickadees  came  round  camp,  and  woodpeckers  ham- 
mered lustily  in  the  dead  timber.  Two  or  three  times 
parties  of  Indians  passed  down  the  lake,  in  strangely  shaped 
bark  canoes,  with  peaked,  projecting  prows  and  sterns; 
craft  utterly  unlike  the  graceful,  feather-floating  birches  so 
beloved  by  both  the  red  and  the  white  woodsmen  of  the 
northeast.  Once  a  couple  of  white  men,  in  a  dugout 
or  pirogue  made  out  of  a  cottonwood  log,  stopped  to  get 
lunch.  They  were  mining  prospectors,  French  Canadians 
by  birth,  but  beaten  into  the  usual  frontier-mining  stamp  ; 
doomed  to  wander  their  lives  long,  ever  hoping,  in  the 
quest  for  metal  wealth. 

With  these  exceptions  there  was  nothing  to  break  the 
silent  loneliness  of  the  great  lake.  Shrouded  as  we  were 
in  the  dense  forest,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  first  steep  hills, 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirks.  133 

we  could  see  nothing  of  the  country  on  the  side  where 
we  were  camped  ;  but  across  the  water  the  immense  moun- 
tain masses  stretched  away  from  our  vision,  range  upon 
range,  until  they  turned  to  a  glittering  throng  of  ice  peaks 
and  snow  fields,  the  feeding  beds  of  glaciers.  Between 
the  lake  and  the  snow  range  were  chains  of  gray  rock 
peaks,  and  the  mountain  sides  and  valleys  were  covered 
by  the  primeval  forest.  The  woods  were  on  fire  across 
the  lake  from  our  camp,  burning  steadily.  At  night  the 
scene  was  very  grand,  as  the  fire  worked  slowly  across  the 
mountain  sides  in  immense  zigzags  of  quivering  red ; 
while  at  times  isolated  pines  of  unusual  size  kindled,  and 
flamed  for  hours,  like  the  torches  of  a  giant.  Finally  the 
smoke  grew  so  thick  as  to  screen  from  our  views  the  grand 
landscape  opposite. 

We  had  come  down  from  a  week's  fruitless  hunting  in 
the  mountains  ;  a  week  of  excessive  toil,  in  a  country 
where  we  saw  no  game — for  in  our  ignorance  we  had 
wasted  time,  not  going  straight  back  to  the  high  ranges, 
from  which  the  game  had  not  yet  descended.  After  three 
or  four  days  of  rest,  and  of  feasting  on  trout — a  welcome 
relief  to  the  monotony  of  frying-pan  bread  and  coarse  salt 
pork — we  were  ready  for  another  trial ;  and  early  one 
morning  we  made  the  start.  Having  to  pack  everything 
for  a  fortnight's  use  on  our  backs,  through  an  excessively 
rough  country,  we  of  course  travelled  as  light  as  possible, 
leaving  almost  all  we  had  with  the  tent  and  boat.  Each 
took  his  own  blanket ;  and  among  us  we  carried  a  frying- 
pan,  a  teapot,  flour,  pork,  salt,  tea,  and  matches.  I  also 
took  a  jacket,  a  spare  pair  of  socks,  some  handkerchiefs, 


134  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

and  my  washing  kit.    Fifty  cartridges  in  my  belt  completed 
my  outfit. 

We  walked  in  single  file,  as  is  necessary  in  thick 
woods.  The  white  hunter  led  and  I  followed,  each  with 
rifle  on  shoulder  and  pack  on  back.  Ammal,  the  Indian, 
pigeon-toed  along  behind,  carrying  his  pack,  not  as  we  did 
ours,  but  by  help  of  a  forehead-band,  which  he  sometimes 
shifted  across  his  breast.  The  travelling  through  the 
tangled,  brush-choked  forest,  and  along  the  boulder-strewn 
and  precipitous  mountain  sides,  was  inconceivably  rough 
and  difficult.  In  places  we  followed  the  valley,  and  when 
this  became  impossible  we  struck  across  the  spurs.  Every 
step  was  severe  toil.  Now  we  walked  through  deep  moss 
and  rotting  mould,  every  few  feet  clambering  over  huge 
trunks ;  again  we  pushed  through  a  stiff  jungle  of  bushes 
and  tall,  prickly  plants — called  "  devil's  clubs," — which 
stung  our  hands  and  faces.  Up  the  almost  perpendicular 
hill-sides  we  in  many  places  went  practically  on  all  fours, 
forcing  our  way  over  the  rocks  and  through  the  dense 
thickets  of  laurels  or  young  spruce.  Where  there  were 
windfalls  or  great  stretches  of  burnt  forest,  black  and 
barren  wastes,  we  balanced  and  leaped  from  log  to  log, 
sometimes  twenty  or  thirty  feet  above  the  ground  ;  and 
when  such  a  stretch  was  on  a  steep  hill-side,  and  especially 
if  the  logs  were  enveloped  in  a  thick  second  growth  of 
small  evergreens,  the  footing  was  very  insecure,  and  the 
danger  from  a  fall  considerable.  Our  packs  added  greatly 
to  our  labor,  catching  on  the  snags  and  stubs  ;  and  where 
a  grove  of  thick-growing  young  spruces  or  balsams  had 
been  burned,  the  stiff  and  brittle  twigs  pricked  like  so 


Hunting  in  the  S  el  kirks.  135 

much  coral.  Most  difficult  of  all  were  the  dry  water- 
courses, choked  with  alders,  where  the  intertwined  tangle 
of  tough  stems  formed  an  almost  literally  impenetrable 
barrier  to  our  progress.  Nearly  every  movement — leap- 
ing, climbing,  swinging  one's  self  up  with  one's  hands, 
bursting  through  stiff  bushes,  plunging  into  and  out  of 
bogs — was  one  of  strain  and  exertion  ;  the  fatigue  was 
tremendous,  and  steadily  continued,  so  that  in  an  hour 
every  particle  of  clothing  I  had  on  was  wringing  wet  with 
sweat. 

At  noon  we  halted  beside  a  little  brook  for  a  bite  of 
lunch — a  chunk  of  cold  frying-pan  bread,  which  was  all 
we  had. 

While  at  lunch  I  made  a  capture.  I  was  sitting  on  a 
great  stone  by  the  edge  of  the  brook,  idly  gazing  at  a 
water-wren  which  had  come  up  from  a  short  flight — I  can 
call  it  nothing  else — underneath  the  water,  and  was  sing- 
ing sweetly  from  a  spray-splashed  log.  Suddenly  a  small 
animal  swam  across  the  little  pool  at  my  feet.  It  was 
less  in  size  than  a  mouse,  and  as  it  paddled  rapidly 
underneath  the  water  its  body  seemed  flattened  like  a 
disc  and  was  spangled  with  tiny  bubbles,  like  specks  of 
silver.  It  was  a  water-shrew,  a  rare  little  beast.  I  sat 
motionless  and  watched  both  the  shrew  and  the  water- 
wren — water-ousel,  as  it  should  rightly  be  named.  The 
latter,  emboldened  by  my  quiet,  presently  flew  by  me  to  a 
little  rapids  close  at  hand,  lighting  on  a  round  stone,  and 
then  slipping  unconcernedly  into  the  swift  water.  Anon 
he  emerged,  stood  on  another  stone,  and  trilled  a  few  bars, 
though  it  was  late  in  the  season  for  singing  ;  and  then 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

dove  again  into  the  stream.  I  gazed  at  him  eagerly ;  for 
this  strange,  pretty  water-thrush  is  to  me  one  of  the  most 
attractive  and  interesting  birds  to  be  found  in  the  gorges 
of  the  great  Rockies.  Its  haunts  are  romantically  beautiful, 
for  it  always  dwells  beside  and  in  the  swift-flowing  moun- 
tain brooks  ;  it  has  a  singularly  sweet  song  ;  and  its  ways 
render  it  a  marked  bird  at  once,  for  though  looking  much 
like  a  sober-colored,  ordinary  woodland  thrush,  it  spends 
half  its  time  under  the  water,  walking  along  the  bottom, 
swimming  and  diving,  and  flitting  through  as  well  as  over 
the  cataracts. 

In  a  minute  or  two  the  shrew  caught  my  eye  again. 
It  got  into  a  little  shallow  eddy  and  caught  a  minute  fish, 
which  it  carried  to  a  half-sunken  stone  and  greedily 
devoured,  tugging  voraciously  at  it  as  it  held  it  down  with 
its  paws.  Then  its  evil  genius  drove  it  into  a  small  puddle 
alongside  the  brook,  where  I  instantly  pounced  on  and 
slew  it ;  for  I  knew  a  friend  in  the  Smithsonian  at  Wash- 
ington who  would  have  coveted  it  greatly.  It  was  a  soft, 
pretty  creature,  dark  above,  snow-white  below,  with  a  very 
long  tail.  I  turned  the  skin  inside  out  and  put  a  bent 
twig  in,  that  it  might  dry ;  while  Ammal,  who  had  been 
intensely  interested  in  the  chase  and  capture,  meditatively 
shook  his  head  and  said  "  wagh,"  unable  to  fathom  the 
white  man's  medicine.  However,  my  labor  came  to 
nought,  for  that  evening  I  laid  the  skin  out  on  a  log, 
Ammal  threw  the  log  into  the  fire,  and  that  was  the  end 
of  the  shrew. 

When  this  interlude  was  over  we  resumed  our  march, 
toiling  silently  onwards  through  the  wild  and  rugged 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirks.  137 

country.  Towards  evening  the  valley  widened  a  little, 
and  we  were  able  to  walk  in  the  bottoms,  which  much 
lightened  our  labor.  The  hunter,  for  greater  ease,  had 
tied  the  thongs  of  his  heavy  pack  across  his  breast,  so 
that  he  could  not  use  his  rifle  ;  but  my  pack  was  lighter, 
and  I  carried  it  in  a  manner  that  would  not  interfere  with 
my  shooting,  lest  we  should  come  unawares  on  game. 

It  was  well  that  I  did  so.  An  hour  or  two  before 
sunset  we  were  travelling,  as  usual,  in  Indian  file,  beside 
the  stream,  through  an  open  wood  of  great  hemlock  trees. 
There  was  no  breeze,  and  we  made  no  sound  as  we 
marched,  for  our  feet  sunk  noiselessly  into  the  deep 
sponge  of  moss,  while  the  incessant  dashing  of  the  tor- 
rent, churning  among  the  stones,  would  have  drowned  a 
far  louder  advance. 

Suddenly  the  hunter,  who  was  leading,  dropped  down 
in  his  tracks,  pointing  forward  ;  and  some  fifty  feet  be- 
yond I  saw  the  head  and  shoulders  of  a  bear  as  he  rose 
to  make  a  sweep  at  some  berries.  He  was  in  a  hollow 
where  a  tall,  rank,  prickly  plant,  with  broad  leaves,  grew 
luxuriantly ;  and  he  was  gathering  its  red  berries,  rising 
on  his  hind  legs  and  sweeping  them  down  into  his  mouth 
with  his  paw,  and  was  much  too  intent  on  his  work  to 
notice  us,  for  his  head  was  pointed  the  other  way.  The 
moment  he  rose  again  I  fired,  meaning  to  shoot  through 
the  shoulders,  but  instead,  in  the  hurry,  taking  him  in  the 
neck.  Down  he  went,  but  whether  hurt  or  not  we  could 
not  see,  for  the  second  he  was  on  all  fours  he  was  no 
longer  visible.  Rather  to  my  surprise  he  uttered  no 
sound — for  bear  when  hit  or  when  charging  often  make 


138  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

a  great  noise — so  I  raced  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  hol- 
low, the  hunter  close  behind  me,  while  Ammal  danced  about 
in  the  rear,  very  much  excited,  as  Indians  always  are  in 
the  presence  of  big  game.  The  instant  we  reached  the 
hollow  and  looked  down  into  it  from  the  low  bank  on 
which  we  stood  we  saw  by  the  swaying  of  the  tall  plants 
that  the  bear  was  coming  our  way.  The  hunter  was 
standing  some  ten  feet  distant,  a  hemlock  trunk  being 
between  us  ;  and  the  next  moment  the  bear  sprang  clean 
up  the  bank  the  other  side  of  the  hemlock,  and  almost 
within  arm's  length  of  my  companion.  I  do  not  think  he 
had  intended  to  charge ;  he  was  probably  confused  by 
the  bullet  through  his  neck,  and  had  by  chance  blundered 
out  of  the  hollow  in  our  direction  ;  but  when  he  saw  the 
hunter  so  close  he  turned  for  him,  his  hair  bristling  and 
his  teeth  showing.  The  man  had  no  cartridge  in  his 
weapon,  and  with  his  pack  on  could  not  have  used  it 
anyhow  ;  and  for  a  moment  it  looked  as  if  he  stood  a  fair 
chance  of  being  hurt,  though  it  is  not  likely  that  the  bear 
would  have  done  more  than  knock  him  down  with  his 
powerful  forepaw,  or  perchance  give  him  a  single  bite  in 
passing.  However,  as  the  beast  sprang  out  of  the  hol- 
low he  poised  for  a  second  on  the  edge  of  the  bank  to 
recover  his  balance,  giving  me  a  beautiful  shot,  as  he 
stood  sideways  to  me  ;  the  bullet  struck  between  the  eye 
and  ear,  and  he  fell  as  if  hit  with  a  pole  axe. 

Immediately  the  Indian  began  jumping  about  the 
body,  uttering  wild  yells,  his  usually  impassive  face  lit  up 
with  excitement,  while  the  hunter  and  I  stood  at  rest, 
leaning  on  our  rifles  and  laughing.  It  was  a  strange 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirks.  139 

scene,  the  dead  bear  lying  in  the  shade  of  the  giant  hem- 
locks, while  the  fantastic-looking  savage  danced  round 
him  with  shrill  whoops,  and  the  tall  frontiersman  looked 
quietly  on. 

Our  prize  was  a  large  black  bear,  with  two  curious 
brown  streaks  down  his  back,  one  on  each  side  the  spine. 
We  skinned  him  and  camped  by  the  carcass,  as  it  was 
growing  late.  To  take  the  chill  off  the  evening  air  we 
built  a  huge  fire,  the  logs  roaring  and  crackling.  To  one 
side  of  it  we  made  our  beds — of  balsam  and  hemlock 
boughs  ;  we  did  not  build  a  brush  lean-to,  because  the 
night  seemed  likely  to  be  clear.  Then  we  supped  on 
sugarless  tea,  frying-pan  bread,  and  quantities  of  bear 
meat,  fried  or  roasted — and  how  very  good  it  tasted  only 
those  know  who  have  gone  through  much  hardship  and 
some  little  hunger,  and  have  worked  violently  for  several 
days  without  flesh  food.  After  eating  our  fill  we  stretched 
ourselves  around  the  fire  ;  the  leaping  sheets  of  flame  lit 
the  tree-trunks  round  about,  causing  them  to  start  out 
against  the  cavernous  blackness  beyond,  and  reddened 
the  interlacing  branches  that  formed  a  canopy  overhead. 
The  Indian  sat  on  his  haunches,  gazing  steadily  and 
silently  into  the  pile  of  blazing  logs,  while  the  white 
hunter  and  I  talked  together. 

The  morning  after  killing  Bruin,  we  again  took  up 
our  march,  heading  up  stream,  that  we  might  go  to  its 
sources  amidst  the  mountains,  where  the  snow  fields  fed 
its  springs.  It  was  two  full  days'  journey  thither,  but  we 
took  much  longer  to  make  it,  as  we  kept  halting  to  hunt 
the  adjoining  mountains.  On  such  occasions  Ammal  was 


140  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

left  as  camp  guard,  while  the  white  hunter  and  I  would 
start  by  daybreak  and  return  at  dark  utterly  worn  out  by 
the  excessive  fatigue.  We  knew  nothing  of  caribou,  nor 
where  to  hunt  for  them  ;  and  we  had  been  told  that  thus 
early  in  the  season  they  were  above  tree  limit  on  the 
mountain  sides.  Accordingly  we  would  climb  up  to  the 
limits  of  the  forests,  but  never  found  a  caribou  trail ;  and 
once  or  twice  we  went  on  to  the  summits  of  the  crag- 
peaks,  and  across  the  deep  snow  fields  in  the  passes. 
There  were  plenty  of  white  goats,  however,  their  trails 
being  broad  paths,  especially  at  one  spot  where  they  led 
down  to  a  lick  in  the  valley  ;  round  the  lick,  for  a  space 
of  many  yards,  the  ground  was  trampled  as  if  in  a 
sheepfold. 

The  mountains  were  very  steep,  and  the  climbing  was 
in  places  dangerous,  when  we  were  above  the  timber  and 
had  to  make  our  way  along  the  jagged  knife-crests  and 
across  the  faces  of  the  cliffs  ;  while  our  hearts  beat  as  if 
about  to  burst  in  the  high,  thin  air.  In  walking  over 
rough  but  not  dangerous  ground — across  slides  or  in 
thick  timber — my  companion  was  far  more  skilful  than  I 
was ;  but  rather  to  my  surprise  I  proved  to  be  nearly  as 
good  as  he  when  we  came  to  the  really  dangerous  places, 
where  we  had  to  go  slowly,  and  let  one  another  down 
from  ledge  to  ledge,  or  crawl  by  narrow  cracks  across  the 
rock  walls. 

The  view  from  the  summits  was  magnificent,  and  I 
never  tired  of  gazing  at  it.  Sometimes  the  sky  was  a 
dome  of  blue  crystal,  and  mountain,  lake,  and  valley  lay 
spread  in  startling  clearness  at  our  very  feet;  and  again 


CAMP   IN   THE    FOREST. 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirk*. 

snow-peak  and  rock-peak  were  thrust  up  like  islands 
through  a  sea  of  billowy  clouds.  At  the  feet  of  the-top- 
most  peaks,  just  above  the  edge  of  the  forest,  were  marshy 
alpine  valleys,  the  boggy  ground  soaked  with  water,  and 
small  bushes  or  stunted  trees  fringing  the  icy  lakes.  In 
the  stony  mountain  sides  surrounding  these  lakes  there 
were  hoary  woodchucks,  and  conies.  The  former  resem- 
bled in  their  habits  the  alpine  marmot,  rather  than  our 
own  common  eastern  woodchuck.  They  lived  alone  or 
in  couples  among  the  rocks,  their  gray  color  often  mak- 
ing them  difficult  to  see  as  they  crouched  at  the  mouths 
of  their  burrows,  or  sat  bolt  upright ;  and  as  an  alarm 
note  they  uttered  a  loud  piercing  whistle,  a  strong  con- 
trast to  the  querulous,  plaintive  "p-a-a-y"  of  the  timid 
conies.  These  likewise  loved  to  dwell  where  the  stones 
and  slabs  of  rock  were  heaped  on  one  another ;  though  so 
timid,  they  were  not  nearly  as  wary  as  the  woodchucks. 
If  we  stood  quite  still  the  little  brown  creatures  would 
venture  away  from  their  holes  and  hop  softly  over  the 
rocks  as  if  we  were  not  present. 

The  white  goats  were  too  musky  to  eat,  and  we  saw 
nothing  else  to  shoot ;  so  we  speedily  became  reduced  to 
tea,  and  to  bread  baked  in  the  frying-pan,  save  every  now 
and  then  for  a  feast  on  the  luscious  mountain  blueberries. 
This  rather  meagre  diet,  coupled  with  incessant  fatigue 
and  exertion,  made  us  fairly  long  for  meat  food  ;  and  we 
fell  off  in  flesh,  though  of  course  in  so  short  a  time  we 
did  not  suffer  in  either  health  or  strength.  Fortunately 
the  nights  were  too  cool  for  mosquitoes  ;  but  once  or 
twice  in  the  afternoons,  while  descending  the  lower  slopes 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

of  the  mountains,  we  were  much  bothered  by  swarms  of 
gnats  ;  they  worried  us  greatly,  usually  attacking  us  at  a 
time  when  we  had  to  go  fast  in  order  to  reach  camp  before 
dark,  while  the  roughness  of  the  ground  forced  us  to  use 
both  hands  in  climbing,  and  thus  forbade  us  to  shield  our 
faces  from  our  tiny  tormentors.  Our  chief  luxury  was,  at 
the  end  of  the  day,  when  footsore  and  weary,  to  cast  aside 
our  sweat-drenched  clothes  and  plunge  into  the  icy  moun- 
tain torrent  for  a  moment's  bath  that  freshened  us  as  if  by 
magic.  The  nights  were  generally  pleasant,  and  we  slept 
soundly  on  our  beds  of  balsam  boughs,  but  once  or  twice 
there  were  sharp  frosts,  and  it  was  so  cold  that  the  hunter 
and  I  huddled  together  for  warmth  and  kept  the  fires 
going  till  morning.  One  day,  when  we  were  on  the 
march,  it  rained  heavily,  and  we  were  soaked  through,  and 
stiff  and  chilly  when  we  pitched  camp  ;  but  we  speedily 
built  a  great  brush  lean-to,  made  a  roaring  fire  in  front, 
and  grew  once  more  to  warmth  and  comfort  as  we  sat 
under  our  steaming  shelter.  The  only  discomfort  we 
really  minded  was  an  occasional  night  in  wet  blankets. 

In  the  evening  the  Indian  and  the  white  hunter  played 
interminable  games  of  seven-up  with  a  greasy  pack  of 
cards.  In  the  course  of  his  varied  life  the  hunter  had 
been  a  professional  gambler  ;  and  he  could  have  easily 
won  all  the  Indian's  money,  the  more  speedily  inasmuch 
as  the  untutored  red  man  was  always  attempting  to  cheat, 
and  was  thus  giving  his  far  more  skilful  opponent  a  cer- 
tain right  to  try  some  similar  deviltry  in  return.  How- 
ever, it  was  distinctly  understood  that  there  should  be  no 
gambling,  for  I  did  not  wish  Ammal  to  lose  all  his  wages 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirks.  143 

while  in  my  employ ;  and  the  white  man  stood  loyally  by 
his  agreement.  AmmaTs  people,  just  before  I  engaged 
him,  had  been  visited  by  their  brethren,  the  Upper  Koote- 
nais,  and  in  a  series  of  gambling  matches  had  lost  about 
all  their  belongings. 

Ammal  himself  was  one  of  the  Lower  Kootenais  ;  I  had 
hired  him  for  the  trip,  as  the  Indians  west  of  the  Rockies, 
unlike  their  kinsman  of  the  plains,  often  prove  hard  and 
willing  workers.  His  knowledge  of  English  was  almost 
nil ;  and  our  very  scanty  conversation  was  carried  on  in 
the  Chinook  jargon,  universally  employed  between  the 
mountains  and  the  Pacific.  Apparently  he  had  three 
names  :  for  he  assured  us  that  his  "  Boston  "  (i.  <?.,  Ameri- 
can) name  was  Ammal  ;  his  "  Siwash  "  (i.  e.>  Indian)  name 
was  Appak ;  and  that  the  priest  called  him  Abel — for 
the  Lower  Kootenais  are  nominally  Catholics.  Whatever 
his  name  he  was  a  good  Indian,  as  Indians  go.  I  often 
tried  to  talk  with  him  about  game  and  hunting,  but  we 
understood  each  other  too  little  to  exchange  more  than 
the  most  rudimentary  ideas.  His  face  brightened  one 
night  when  I  happened  to  tell  him  of  my  baby  boys  at 
home  ;  he  must  have  been  an  affectionate  father  in  his 
way,  this  dark  Ammal,  for  he  at  once  proceeded  to  tell 
me  about  his  own  papoose,  who  had  also  seen  one  snow, 
and  to  describe  how  the  little  fellow  was  old  enough  to 
take  one  step  and  then  fall  down.  But  he  never  displayed 
so  much  vivacity  as  on  one  occasion  when  the  white 
hunter  happened  to  relate  to  him  a  rather  gruesome  feat 
of  one  of  their  mutual  acquaintances,  an  Upper  Kootenai 
Indian  named  Three  Coyotes.  The  latter  was  a  quarrel- 


144  The  Wilderness  H^lnter. 

some,  adventurous  Indian,  with  whom  the  hunter  had 
once  had  a  difficulty — "  I  had  to  beat  the  cuss  over  the 
head  with  my  gun  a  little,"  he  remarked  parenthetically. 
His  last  feat  had  been  done  in  connection  with  a  number 
of  Chinamen  who  had  been  working  among  some  placer 
mines,  where  the  Indians  came  to  visit  them.  Now  the 
astute  Chinese  are  as  fond  of  gambling  as  any  of  the  bor- 
derers, white  or  red,  and  are  very  successful,  generally 
fleecing  the  Indians  unmercifully.  Three  Coyotes  lost 
all  he  possessed  to  one  of  the  pigtailed  gentry  ;  but  he 
apparently  took  his  losses  philosophically,  and  pleasantly 
followed  the  victor  round,  until  the  latter  had  won  all  the 
cash  and  goods  of  several  other  Indians.  Then  he  sud- 
denly fell  on  the  exile  from  the  Celestial  Empire,  slew 
him  and  took  all  his  plunder,  retiring  unmolested,  as  it  did 
not  seem  any  one's  business  to  avenge  a  mere  Chinaman. 
Ammal  was  immensely  interested  in  the  tale,  and  kept 
recurring  to  it  again  and  again,  taking  two  little  sticks  and 
making  the  hunter  act  out  the  whole  story.  The  Koote- 
nais  were  then  only  just  beginning  to  consider  the  Chinese 
as  human.  They  knew  they  must  not  kill  white  people, 
and  they  had  their  own  code  of  morality  among  them- 
selves ;  but  when  the  Chinese  first  appeared  they  evi- 
dently thought  that  there  could  not  be  any  especial 
objection  to  killing  them,  if  any  reason  arose  for  doing  so. 
I  think  the  hunter  himself  sympathized  somewhat  with 
this  view. 

Ammal  objected  strongly  to  leaving  the  neighborhood 
of  the  lake.  He  went  the  first  day's  journey  willingly 
enough,  but  after  that  it  was  increasingly  difficult  to  get 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirks.  145 

him  along,  and  he  gradually  grew  sulky.  For  some  time 
we  could  not  find  out  the  reason  ;  but  finally  he  gave-us 
to  understand  that  he  was  afraid  because  up  in  the  high 
mountains  there  were  "little  bad  Indians"  who  would 
kill  him  if  they  caught  him  alone,  especially  at  night.  At 
first  we  thought  he  was  speaking  of  stray  warriors  of  the 
Blackfeet  tribe  ;  but  it  turned  out  that  he  was  not  thinking 
of  human  beings  at  all,  but  of  hobgoblins. 

Indeed  the  night  sounds  of  these  great  stretches  of 
mountain  woodland  were  very  weird  and  strange.  Though 
I  have  often  and  for  long  periods  dwelt  and  hunted  in  the 
wilderness,  yet  I  never  before  so  well  understood  why 
the  people  who  live  in  lonely  forest  regions  are  prone  to 
believe  in  elves,  wood  spirits,  and  other  beings  of  an 
unseen  world.  Our  last  camp,  whereat  we  spent  several 
days,  was  pitched  in  a  deep  valley  nearly  at  the  head  of 
the  stream.  Our  brush  shelter  stood  among  the  tall 
coniferous  trees  that  covered  the  valley  bottom  ;  but  the 
altitude  was  so  great  that  the  forest  extended  only  a  very 
short  distance  up  the  steep  mountain  slopes.  Beyond, 
on  either  hand,  rose  walls  of  gray  rock,  with  snow  beds  in 
their  rifts,  and,  high  above,  toward  the  snow  peaks,  the 
great  white  fields  dazzled  the  eyes.  The  torrent  foamed 
swiftly  by  but  a  short  distance  below  the  mossy  level 
space  on  which  we  had  built  our  slight  weather-shield  of 
pine  boughs  ;  other  streams  poured  into  it,  from  ravines 
through  which  they  leaped  down  the  mountain  sides. 

After  nightfall,  round  the  camp  fire,  or  if  I  awakened 
after  sleeping  a  little  while,  I  would  often  lie  silently  for 
many  minutes  together,  listening  to  the  noises  of  the 


146  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

wilderness.  At  times  the  wind  moaned  harshly  through 
the  tops  of  the  tall  pines  and  hemlocks ;  at  times  the 
branches  were  still ;  but  the  splashing  murmur  of  the 
torrent  never  ceased,  and  through  it  came  other  sounds 
— the  clatter  of  huge  rocks  falling  down  the  cliffs,  the 
dashing  of  cataracts  in  far-off  ravines,  the  hooting  of  owls. 
Again,  the  breeze  would  shift,  and  bring  to  my  ears  the 
ringing  of  other  brooks  and  cataracts  and  wind-stirred 
forests,  and  perhaps  at  long  intervals  the  cry  of  some 
wild  beast,  the  crash  of  a  falling  tree,  or  the  faint  rumble 
of  a  snow  avalanche.  If  I  listened  long  enough,  it  would 
almost  seem  that  I  heard  thunderous  voices  laughing  and 
calling  to  one  another,  and  as  if  at  any  moment  some 
shape  might  stalk  out  of  the  darkness  into  the  dim  light 
of  the  embers. 

Until  within  a  couple  of  days  of  turning  our  faces 
back  towards  the  lake  we  did  not  come  across  any  caribou, 
and  saw  but  a  few  old  signs ;  and  we  began  to  be  fearful 
lest  we  should  have  to  return  without  getting  any,  for  our 
shoes  had  been  cut  to  ribbons  by  the  sharp  rocks,  we  were 
almost  out  of  flour,  and  therefore  had  but  little  to  eat. 
However,  our  perseverance  was  destined  to  be  rewarded. 

The  first  day  after  reaching  our  final  camp,  we  hunted 
across  a  set  of  spurs  and  hollows  but  saw  nothing  living ; 
yet  we  came  across  several  bear  tracks,  and  in  a  deep, 
mossy  quagmire,  by  a  spring,  found  where  a  huge  silver- 
tip  had  wallowed  only  the  night  before. 

Next  day  we  started  early,  determined  to  take  a  long 
walk  and  follow  the  main  stream  up  to  its  head,  or  at 
least  above  timber  line.  The  hunter  struck  so  brisk  a 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirks.  147 

pace,  plunging  through  thickets  and  leaping  from  log  to 
log  in  the  slashes  of  fallen  timber,  and  from  boulder-  te 
boulder  in  crossing  the  rock-slides,  that  I  could  hardly 
keep  up  to  him,  struggle  as  I  would,  and  we  each  of  us 
got  several  ugly  tumbles,  saving  our  rifles  at  the  expense 
of  scraped  hands  and  bruised  bodies.  We  went  up  one 
side  of  the  stream,  intending  to  come  down  the  other ; 
for  the  forest  belt  was  narrow  enough  to  hunt  thoroughly. 
For  two  or  three  hours  we  toiled  thrpugh  dense  growth, 
varied  by  rock-slides,  and  once  or  twice  by  marshy  tracts, 
where  water  oozed  and  soaked  through  the  mossy  hill* 
sides,  studded  rather  sparsely  with  evergreens.  In  one 
of  these  places  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  an  animal  which 
the  track  showed  to  be  a  wolverine. 

Then  we  came  to  a  spur  of  open  hemlock  forest ;  and 
no  sooner  had  we  entered  it  than  the  hunter  stopped  and 
pointed  exultingly  to  a  well-marked  game  trail,  in  which 
it  was  easy  at  a  glance  to  discern  the  great  round  foot- 
prints of  our  quarry.  We  hunted  carefully  over  the  spur 
and  found  several  trails,  generally  leading  down  along  the 
ridge ;  we  also  found  a  number  of  beds,  some  old  and 
some  recent,  usually  placed  where  the  animal  could  keep 
a  lookout  for  any  foe  coming  up  from  the  valley.  They 
were  merely  slight  hollows  or  indentations  in  the  pine- 
needles  ;  and,  like  the  game  trails,  were  placed  in  locali- 
ties similar  to  those  that  would  be  chosen  by  blacktail 
deer.  The  caribou  droppings  were  also  very  plentiful ; 
and  there  were  signs  of  where  they  had  browsed  on  the 
blueberry  bushes,  cropping  off  the  berries,  and  also  ap- 
parently of  where  they  had  here  and  there  plucked  a 


148  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

mouthful  of  a  peculiar  kind  of  moss,  or  cropped  off  some 
little  mushrooms.  But  the  beasts  themselves  had  evi- 
dently left  the  hemlock  ridge,  and  we  went  on. 

We  were  much  pleased  at  finding  the  sign  in  open 
timber,  where  the  ground  was  excellent  for  still-hunting ; 
for  in  such  thick  forest  as  we  had  passed  through,  it 
would  have  been  by  mere  luck  only  that  we  could  have 
approached  game. 

After  a  little  while  the  valley  became  so  high  that  the 
large  timber  ceased,  and  there  were  only  occasional  groves 
of  spindling  evergreens.  Beyond  the  edge  of  the  big  tim- 
ber was  a  large  boggy  tract,  studded  with  little  pools  ;  and 
here  again  we  found  plenty  of  caribou  tracks.  A  caribou 
has  an  enormous  foot,  bigger  than  a  cow's,  and  admirably 
adapted  for  travelling  over  snow  or  bogs ;  hence  they  can 
pass  through  places  where  the  long  slender  hoofs  of 
moose  or  deer,  or  the  rounded  hoofs  of  elk,  would  let 
their  owners  sink  at  once  ;  and  they  are  very  difficult  to 
kill  by  following  on  snow-shoes — a  method  much  in  vogue 
among  the  brutal  game  butchers  for  slaughtering  the 
more  helpless  animals.  Spreading  out  his  great  hoofs, 
and  bending  his  legs  till  he  walks  almost  on  the  joints,  a 
caribou  will  travel  swiftly  over  a  crust  through  which 
a  moose  breaks  at  every  stride,  or  through  deep  snow 
in  which  a  deer  cannot  flounder  fifty  yards.  Usually  he 
trots  ;  but  when  pressed  he  will  spring  awkwardly  along, 
leaving  tracks  in  the  snow  almost  exactly  like  magnified 
imprints  of  those  of  a  great  rabbit,  the  long  marks  of  the 
two  hind  legs  forming  an  angle  with  each  other,  while  the 
forefeet  make  a  large  point  almost  between. 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirk**,  149 

The  caribou  had  wandered  all  over  the  bogs  and 
through  the  shallow  pools,  but  evidently  only  at  nighr  or 
in  the  dusk,  when  feeding  or  in  coming  to  drink  ;  and  we 
again  went  on.  Soon  the  timber  disappeared  almost  en- 
tirely, and  thick  brushwood  took  its  place ;  we  were  in  a 
high,  bare  alpine  valley,  the  snow  lying  in  drifts  along  the 
sides.  In  places  there  had  been  enormous  rock-slides, 
entirely  filling  up  the  bottom,  so  that  for  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  at  a  stretch  the  stream  ran  underground.  In  the 
rock  masses  of  this  alpine  valley  we,  as  usual,  saw  many 
conies  and  hoary  woodchucks. 

The  caribou  trails  had  ceased,  and  it  was  evident  that 
the  beasts  were  not  ahead  of  us  in  the  barren,  treeless 
recesses  between  the  mountains  of  rock  and  snow  ;  and 
we  turned  back  down  the  valley,  crossing  over  to  the 
opposite  or  south  side  of  the  stream.  We  had  already 
eaten  our  scanty  lunch,  for  it  was  afternoon.  For  several 
miles  of  hard  walking,  through  thicket,  marsh,  and  rock- 
slide,  we  saw  no  traces  of  the  game.  Then  we  reached 
the  forest,  which  soon  widened  out,  and  crept  up  the 
mountain  sides ;  and  we  came  to  where  another  stream 
entered  the  one  we  were  following.  A  high,  steep  shoul- 
der between  the  two  valleys  was  covered  with  an  open 
growth  of  great  hemlock  timber,  and  in  this  we  again 
found  the  trails  and  beds  plentiful.  There  was  no  breeze, 
and  after  beating  through  the  forest  nearly  to  its  upper 
edge,  we  began  to  go  down  the  ridge,  or  point  of  the 
shoulder.  The  comparative  freedom  from  brushwood 
made  it  easy  to  walk  without  noise,  and  we  descended 
the  steep  incline  with  the  utmost  care,  scanning  every 


150  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

object,  and  using  every  caution  not  to  slip  on  the  hem- 
lock needles,  nor  to  strike  a  stone  or  break  a  stick  with  our 
feet.  The  sign  was  very  fresh,  and  when  still  half  a  mile  or 
so  from  the  bottom  we  at  last  came  on  three  bull  caribou. 
Instantly  the  hunter  crouched  down,  while  I  ran  noise- 
lessly forward  behind  the  shelter  of  a  big  hemlock  trunk 
until  within  fifty  yards  of  the  grazing  and  unconscious 
quarry.  They  were  feeding  with  their  heads  up-hill,  but  so 
greedily  that  they  had  not  seen  us  ;  and  they  were  rather 
difficult  to  see  themselves,  for  their  bodies  harmonized 
well  in  color  with  the  brown  tree-trunks  and  lichen-cov- 
ered boulders.  The  largest,  a  big  bull  with  a  good  but 
by  no  means  extraordinary  head,  was  nearest.  As  he 
stood  fronting  me  with  his  head  down  I  fired  into  his  neck, 
breaking  the  bone,  and  he  turned  a  tremendous  back 
somersault.  The  other  two  halted  a  second  in  stunned 
terror  ;  then  one,  a  yearling,  rushed  past  us  up  the  valley 
down  which  we  had  come,  while  the  other,  a  large  bull 
with  small  antlers,  crossed  right  in  front  of  me,  at  a  canter, 
his  neck  thrust  out,  and  his  head — so  coarse-looking  com- 
pared to  the  delicate  outlines  of  an  elk's — turned  towards 
me.  His  movements  seemed  clumsy  and  awkward,  utterly 
unlike  those  of  a  deer  ;  but  he  handled  his  great  hoofs 
cleverly  enough,  and  broke  into  a  headlong,  rattling  gal- 
lop as  he  went  down  the  hillside,  crashing  through  the 
saplings  and  leaping  over  the  fallen  logs.  There  was  a 
spur  a  little  beyond,  and  up  this  he  went  at  a  swinging 
trot,  halting  when  he  reached  the  top,  and  turning  to  look 
at  me  once  more.  He  was  only  a  hundred  yards  away ; 
and  though  I  had  not  intended  to  shoot  him  (for  his  head 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirks. 

was  not  good),  the  temptation  was  sore  ;  and  I  was  glad 
when,  in  another  second,  the  stupid  beast  turned  again 
and  went  off  up  the  valley  at  a  slashing  run. 

Then  we  hurried  down  to  examine  with  pride  and 
pleasure  the  dead  bull — his  massive  form,  sleek  coat,  and 
fine  antlers.  It  was  one  of  those  moments  that  repay  the 
hunter  for  days  of  toil  and  hardship  ;  that  is  if  he  needs 
repayment,  and  does  not  find  life  in  the  wilderness  pleasure 
enough  in  itself. 

It  was  getting  late,  and  if  we  expected  to  reach  camp 
that  night  it  behooved  us  not  to  delay ;  so  we  merely 
halted  long  enough  to  dress  the  caribou,  and  take  a  steak 
with  us — which  we  did  not  need,  by  the  way,  for  almost 
immediately  we  came  on  a  band  of  spruce  grouse  and 
knocked  off  the  heads  of  five  with  our  rifles.  The  caribou's 
stomach  was  filled  with  blueberries,  and  with  their  leaves, 
and  with  a  few  small  mushrooms  also,  and  some  mouth- 
fuls  of  moss.  We  went  home  very  fast,  too  much  elated 
to  heed  scratches  and  tumbles  ;  and  just  as  it  was  growing 
so  dark  that  further  travelling  was  impossible  we  came 
opposite  our  camp,  crossed  the  river  on  a  fallen  hemlock, 
and  walked  up  to  the  moody  Indian,  as  he  sat  crouched 
by  the  fire. 

He  lost  his  sullenness  when  he  heard  what  we  had 
done ;  and  next  day  we  all  went  up  and  skinned  and 
butchered  the  caribou,  returning  to  camp  and  making 
ready  to  start  back  to  the  lake  the  following  morning  ;  and 
that  night  we  feasted  royally. 

We  were  off  by  dawn,  the  Indian  joyfully  leading. 
Coming  up  into  the  mountains  he  had  always  been  the 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

rear  man  of  the  file  ;  but  now  he  went  first  and  struck  a 
pace  that,  continued  all  day  long,  gave  me  a  little  trouble 
to  follow.  Each  of  us  carried  his  pack ;  to  the  Indians' 
share  fell  the  caribou  skull  and  antlers,  which  he  bore  on 
his  head.  At  the  end  of  the  day  he  confessed  to  me  that 
it  had  made  his  head  "  heap  sick  " — as  well  it  might.  We 
had  made  four  short  days*,  or  parts  of  days',  march  coming 
up  ;  for  we  had  stopped  to  hunt,  and  moreover  we  knew 
nothing  of  the  country,  being  probably  the  first  white  men 
in  it,  while  none  of  the  Indians  had  ever  ventured  a  long 
distance  from  the  lake.  Returning  we  knew  how  to  take 
the  shortest  route,  we  were  going  down  hill,  and  we  walked 
or  trotted  very  fast ;  and  so  we  made  the  whole  distance 
in  twelve  hours'  travel.  At  sunset  we  came  out  on  the 
last  range  of  steep  foot-hills,  overlooking  the  cove  where 
we  had  pitched  our  permanent  camp ;  and  from  a  bare 
cliff  shoulder  we  saw  our  boat  on  the  beach,  and  our  white 
tent  among  the  trees,  just  as  we  had  left  them,  while  the 
glassy  mirror  of  the  lake  reflected  the  outlines  of  the 
mountains  opposite. 

Though  this  was  the  first  caribou  I  had  ever  killed,  it 
was  by  no  means  the  first  I  had  ever  hunted.  Among 
my  earliest  hunting  experiences,  when  a  lad,  were  two 
fruitless  and  toilsome  expeditions  after  caribou  in  the 
Maine  woods.  One  I  made  in  the  fall,  going  to  the  head 
of  the  Munsungin  River  in  a  pirogue,  with  one  companion. 
The  water  was  low,  and  all  the  way  up  we  had  to  drag  the 
pirogue,  wet  to  our  middles,  our  ankles  sore  from  slipping 
on  the  round  stones  under  the  rushing  water,  and  our 
muscles  aching  with  fatigue.  When  we  reached  the  head- 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirks.          153 

waters  we  found  no  caribou  sign,  and  came  back  without 
slaying  anything  larger  than  an  infrequent  duck  or  grouse. 
The  following  February  I  made  a  trip  on  snow-shoes 
after  the  same  game,  and  with  the  same  result.  How- 
ever, I  enjoyed  the  trip,  for  the  northland  woods  are 
very  beautiful  and  strange  in  winter,  as  indeed  they  are 
at  all  other  times — and  it  was  my  first  experience  on  snow- 
shoes.  I  used  the  ordinary  webbed  racquets,  and  as  the 
snow,  though  very  deep,  was  only  imperfectly  crusted,  I 
found  that  for  a  beginner  the  exercise  was  laborious  in 
the  extreme,  speedily  discovering  that,  no  matter  how 
cold  it  was,  while  walking  through  the  windless  woods  I 
stood  in  no  need  of  warm  clothing.  But  at  night,  espe- 
cially when  lying  out,  the  cold  was  bitter.  Our  plan  was 
to  drive  in  a  sleigh  to  some  logging  camp,  where  we  were 
always  received  with  hearty  hospitality,  and  thence  make 
hunting  trips,  in  very  light  marching  order,  through  the 
heart  of  the  surrounding  forest.  The  woods,  wrapped  in 
their  heavy  white  mantle,  were  still  and  lifeless.  There 
were  a  few  chickadees  and  woodpeckers ;  now  and  then 
we  saw  flocks  of  red-polls,  pine  linnets,  and  large,  rosy 
grossbeaks ;  and  once  or  twice  I  came  across  a  grouse  or 
white  rabbit,  and  killed  it  for  supper ;  but  this  was  nearly 
all.  Yet,  though  bird  life  was  scarce,  and  though  we  saw 
few  beasts  beyond  an  occasional  porcupine  or  squirrel, 
every  morning  the  snow  was  dotted  with  a  network 
of  trails  made  during  the  hours  of  darkness ;  the  fine 
tracery  of  the  footprints  of  the  little  red  wood-mouse,  the 
marks  which  showed  the  loping  progress  of  the  sable,  the 
V  and  dot  of  the  rabbit,  the  round  pads  of  the  lucivee,  and 


154  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

many  others.  The  snow  reveals,  as  nothing  else  does, 
the  presence  in  the  forest  of  the  many  shy  woodland 
creatures  which  lead  their  lives  abroad  only  after  nightfall. 
Once  we  saw  a  coon,  out  early  after  its  winter  nap,  and 
following  I  shot  it  in  a  hollow  tree.  Another  time  we 
came  on  a  deer  and  the  frightened  beast  left  its  "yard," 
a  tangle  of  beaten  paths,  or  deep  furrows.  The  poor 
animal  made  but  slow  headway  through  the  powdery 
snow ;  after  going  thirty  or  forty  rods  it  sank  exhausted 
in  a  deep  drift,  and  lay  there  in  helpless  panic  as  we 
walked  close  by.  Very  different  were  the  actions  of  the  only 
caribou  we  saw — a  fine  beast  which  had  shed  its  antlers. 
I  merely  caught  a  glimpse  of  it  as  it  leaped  over  a  breast- 
work of  down  timbers ;  and  we  never  saw  it  again. 
Alternately  trotting  and  making  a  succession  of  long 
jumps,  it  speedily  left  us  far  behind ;  with  its  great  splay- 
hoofs  it  could  snow-shoe  better  than  we  could.  It  is 
among  deer  the  true  denizen  of  the  regions  of  heavy 
snowfall ;  far  more  so  than  the  moose.  Only  under 
exceptional  conditions  of  crust-formation  is  it  in  any 
danger  from  a  man  on  snow-shoes. 

In  other  ways  it  is  no  better  able  to  take  care  of  itself 
than  moose  and  deer ;  in  fact  I  doubt  whether  its  senses 
are  quite  as  acute,  or  at  least  whether  it  is  as  wary  and 
knowing,  for  under  like  conditions  it  is  rather  easier  to 
still-hunt.  In  the  fall  caribou  wander  long  distances,  and 
are  fond  of  frequenting  the  wet  barrens  which  break  the 
expanse  of  the  northern  forest  in  tracts  of  ever  increasing 
size  as  the  subarctic  regions  are  neared.  At  this  time 
they  go  in  bands,  each  under  the  control  of  a  master  bull, 


Hunting  in  the  Selkirks.  155 

which  wages  repeated  and  furious  battles  for  his  harem  ; 
and  in  their  ways  of  life  they  resemble  the  wapiti  more 
than  they  do  the  moose  or  deer.  They  sometimes  display 
a  curious  boldness,  the  bulls  especially  showing  both 
stupidity  and  pugnacity  when  in  districts  to  which  men 
rarely  penetrate. 

On  our  way  out  of  the  woods,  after  this  hunt,  there 
was  a  slight  warm  spell,  followed  by  rain  and  then  by 
freezing  weather,  so  as  to  bring  about  what  is  known  as  a 
silver  thaw.  Every  twig  was  sheathed  in  glittering  ice, 
and  in  the  moonlight  the  forest  gleamed  as  if  carved  out 
of  frosted  silver. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  WAPITI  OR  ROUND-HORNED  ELK. 

ONCE,  while  on  another  hunt  with  John  Willis, 
I  spent  a  week  in  a  vain  effort  to  kill  moose 
among  the  outlying  mountains  at  the  southern 
end  of  the  Bitter  Root  range.  Then,  as  we  had  no  meat, 
we  determined  to  try  for  elk,  of  which  we  had  seen  much 
sign. 

We  were  camped  with  a  wagon,  as  high  among  the 
foot-hills  as  wheels  could  go,  but  several  hours'  walk  from 
the  range  of  the  game  ;  for  it  was  still  early  in  the  season, 
and  they  had  riot  yet  come  down  from  the  upper  slopes. 
Accordingly  we  made  a  practice  of  leaving  the  wagon  for 
two  or  three  days  at  a  time  to  hunt ;  returning  to  get  a 
night's  rest  in  the  tent,  preparatory  to  a  fresh  start.  On 
these  trips  we  carried  neither  blankets  nor  packs,  as  the 
walking  was  difficult  and  we  had  much  ground  to  cover. 
Each  merely  put  on  his  jacket  with  a  loaf  of  frying-pan 
bread  and  a  paper  of  salt  stuffed  into  the  pockets.  We  were 
cumbered  with  nothing  save  our  rifles  and  cartridges. 

On  the  morning  in  question  we  left  camp  at  sunrise. 
For  two  or  three  hours  we  walked  up-hill  through  a  rather 

156 


The  Wapiti  or  Round-Horned  Elk.    i5; 

open  growth  of  small  pines  and  spruces,  the  travelling 
being  easy.  Then  we  came  to  the  edge  of  a  deep  valley, 
a  couple  of  miles  across.  Into  this  we  scrambled,  down  a 
steep  slide,  where  the  forest  had  grown  up  among  the 
immense  boulder  masses.  The  going  here  was  difficult  to 
a  degree ;  the  great  rocks,  dead  timber,  slippery  pine 
needles,  and  loose  gravel  entailing  caution  at  every  step, 
while  we  had  to  guard  our  rifles  carefully  from  the  conse- 
quences of  a  slip.  It  was  not  much  better  at  the  bottom, 
which  was  covered  by  a  tangled  mass  of  swampy  forest 
Through  this  we  hunted  carefully,  but  with  no  success,  in 
spite  of  our  toil ;  for  the  only  tracks  we  saw  that  were  at 
all  fresh  were  those  of  a  cow  and  calf  moose.  Finally,  in 
the  afternoon,  we  left  the  valley  and  began  to  climb  a 
steep  gorge,  down  which  a  mountain  torrent  roared  and 
foamed  in  a  succession  of  cataracts. 

Three  hours*  hard  climbing  brought  us  to  another 
valley,  but  of  an  entirely  different  character.  It  was  sev- 
eral miles  long,  but  less  than  a  mile  broad.  Save  at  the 
mouth,  it  was  walled  in  completely  by  chains  of  high  rock- 
peaks,  their  summits  snow-capped  ;  the  forest  extended  a 
short  distance  up  their  sides.  The  bottom  of  the  valley 
was  in  places  covered  by  open  woodland,  elsewhere  by 
marshy  meadows,  dotted  with  dense  groves  of  spruce. 

Hardly  had  we  entered  this  valley  before  we  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  yearling  elk  walking  rapidly  along  a  game 
path  some  distance  ahead.  We  followed  as  quickly  as 
we  could  without  making  a  noise,  but  after  the  first 
glimpse  never  saw  it  again  ;  for  it  is  astonishing  how  fast 
an  elk  travels,  with  its  ground-covering  walk.  We  went 


is8  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

up  the  valley  until  we  were  well  past  its  middle,  and  saw 
abundance  of  fresh  elk  sign.  Evidently  two  or  three 
bands  had  made  the  neighborhood  their  headquarters. 
Among  them  were  some  large  bulls,  which  had  been  try- 
ing their  horns  not  only  on  the  quaking-asp  and  willow 
saplings,  but  also  on  one  another,  though  the  rut  had 
barely  begun.  By  one  pool  they  had  scooped  out  a  kind 
of  wallow  or  bare  spot  in  the  grass,  and  had  torn  and 
tramped  the  ground  with  their  hoofs.  The  place  smelt 
strongly  of  their  urine. 

By  the  time  the  sun  set  we  were  sure  the  elk  were 
towards  the  head  of  the  valley.  We  utilized  the  short 
twilight  in  arranging  our  sleeping  place  for  the  night, 
choosing  a  thick  grove  of  spruce  beside  a  small  mountain 
tarn,  at  the  foot  of  a  great  cliff.  We  were  chiefly  influ- 
enced in  our  choice  by  the  abundance  of  dead  timber  of  a 
size  easy  to  handle  ;  the  fuel  question  being  all-important 
on  such  a  trip,  where  one  has  to  lie  out  without  bedding, 
and  to  keep  up  a  fire,  with  no  axe  to  cut  wood. 

Having  selected  a  smooth  spot,  where  some  low-growing 
firs  made  a  wind  break,  we  dragged  up  enough  logs  to  feed 
the  fire  throughout  the  night.  Then  we  drank  our  fill  at 
the  icy  pool,  and  ate  a  few  mouthfuls  of  bread.  While  it 
was  still  light  we  heard  the  querulous  bleat  of  the  conies, 
from  among  the  slide  rocks  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  ; 
and  the  chipmunks  and  chickarees  scolded  at  us.  As 
dark  came  on,  and  we  sat  silently  gazing  into  the  flickering 
blaze,  the  owls  began  muttering  and  hooting. 

Clearing  the  ground  of  stones  and  sticks,  we  lay  down 
beside  the  fire,  pulled  our  soft  felt  hats  over  our  ears, 


The  Wapiti  or  Round-Horned  Elk.     159 

buttoned  our  jackets,  and  went  to  sleep.  Of  course  our 
slumbers  were  fitful  and  broken,  for  every  hour  or  two  the 
fire  got  low  and  had  to  be  replenished.  We  wakened 
shivering  out  of  each  spell  of  restless  sleep  to  find  the  logs 
smouldering  ;  we  were  alternately  scorched  and  frozen. 

As  the  first  faint  streak  of  dawn  appeared  in  the  dark 
sky  my  companion  touched  me  lightly  on  the  arm.  The 
fire  was  nearly  out ;  we  felt  numbed  by  the  chill  air.  At 
once  we  sprang  up,  stretched  our  arms,  shook  ourselves, 
examined  our  rifles,  swallowed  a  mouthful  or  two  of  bread, 
and  walked  off  through  the  gloomy  forest. 

At  first  we  could  scarcely  see  our  way,  but  it  grew 
rapidly  lighter.  The  gray  mist  rose  and  wavered  over  the 
pools  and  wet  places  ;  the  morning  voices  of  the  wilderness 
began  to  break  the  death-like  stillness.  After  we  had 
walked  a  couple  of  miles  the  mountain  tops  on  our  right 
hand  reddened  in  the  sun-rays. 

Then,  as  we  trod  noiselessly  over  the  dense  moss,  and 
on  the  pine  needles  under  the  scattered  trees,  we  heard  a 
sharp  clang  and  clatter  up  the  valley  ahead  of  us.  We 
knew  this  meant  game  of  some  sort ;  and  stealing  lightly 
and  cautiously  forward  we  soon  saw  before  us  the  cause 
of  the  noise. 

In  a  little  glade,  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  yards  from 
us,  two  bull  elk  were  engaged  in  deadly  combat,  while  two 
others  were  looking  on.  It  was  a  splendid  sight.  The 
great  beasts  faced  each  other  with  lowered  horns,  the  manes 
that  covered  their  thick  necks,  and  the  hair  on  their 
shoulders,  bristling  and  erect.  Then  they  charged  furiously, 
the  crash  of  the  meeting  antlers  resounding  through  the 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

valley.  The  shock  threw  them  both  on  their  haunches , 
with  locked  horns  and  glaring  eyes  they  strove  against 
each  other,  getting  their  hind  legs  well  under  them,  strain- 
ing every  muscle  in  their  huge  bodies,  and  squealing 
savagely.  They  were  evenly  matched  in  weight,  strength, 
and  courage  ;  and  push  as  they  might,  neither  got  the 
upper  hand,  first  one  yielding  a  few  inches,  then  the  other, 
while  they  swayed  to  and  fro  in  their  struggles,  smashing 
the  bushes  and  ploughing  up  the  soil. 

Finally  they  separated  and  stood  some  little  distance 
apart,  under  the  great  pines ;  their  sides  heaving,  and 
columns  of  steam  rising  from  their  nostrils  through  the 
frosty  air  of  the  brightening  morning.  Again  they  rushed 
together  with  a  crash,  and  each  strove  mightily  to  overthrow 
the  other,  or  get  past  his  guard  ;  but  the  branching  antlers 
caught  every  vicious  lunge  and  thrust.  This  set-to  was 
stopped  rather  curiously.  One  of  the  onlooking  elk  was 
a  yearling  ;  the  other,  though  scarcely  as  heavy-bodied  as 
either  of  the  fighters,  had  a  finer  head.  He  was  evidently 
much  excited  by  the  battle,  and  he  now  began  to  walk 
towards  the  two  combatants,  nodding  his  head  and  uttering 
a  queer,  whistling  noise.  They  dared  not  leave  their  flanks 
uncovered  to  his  assault ;  and  as  he  approached  they 
promptly  separated,  and  walked  off  side  by  side  a  few  yards 
apart.  In  a  moment,  however,  one  spun  round  and  jumped 
at  his  old  adversary,  seeking  to  stab  him  in  his  unprotected 
flank  ;  but  the  latter  was  just  as  quick,  and  as  before  caught 
the  rush  on  his  horns.  They  closed  as  furiously  as  ever ; 
but  the  utmost  either  could  do  was  to  inflict  one  or  two 
punches  on  the  neck  and  shoulders  of  his  foe,  where  the 


The  Wapiti  or  Round-Horned  Elk. 

thick  hide  served  as  a  shield.  Again  the  peace-maker  ap- 
proached, nodding  his  head, whistling,  and  threatening ;  and 
again  they  separated. 

This  was  repeated  once  or  twice  ;  and  I  began  to  be 
afraid  lest  the  breeze  which  was  very  light  and  puffy 
should  shift  and  give  them  my  wind.  So,  resting  my  rifle 
on  my  knee  I  fired  twice,  putting  one  bullet  behind  the 
shoulder  of  the  peace-maker,  and  the  other  behind  the 
shoulder  of  one  of  the  combatants.  Both  were  deadly 
shots,  but,  as  so  often  with  wapiti,  neither  of  the  wounded 
animals  at  the  moment  showed  any  signs  of  being  hit. 
The  yearling  ran  off  unscathed.  The  other  three  crowded 
together  and  trotted  behind  some  spruce  on  the  left,  while 
we  ran  forward  for  another  shot.  In  a  moment  one  fell ; 
whereupon  the  remaining  two  turned  and  came  back  across 
the  glade,  trotting  to  the  right.  As  we  opened  fire  they 
broke  into  a  lumbering  gallop,  but  were  both  downed  before 
they  got  out  of  sight  in  the  timber. 

As  soon  as  the  three  bulls  were  down  we  busied  our- 
selves taking  off  their  heads  and  hides,  and  cutting  off  the 
best  portions  of  the  meat — from  the  saddles  and  hams — to 
take  back  to  camp,  where  we  smoked  it.  But  first  we  had 
breakfast.  We  kindled  a  fire  beside  a  little  spring  of  clear 
water  and  raked  out  the  coals.  Then  we  cut  two  willow 
twigs  as  spits,  ran  on  each  a  number  of  small  pieces  of  elk 
loin,  and  roasted  them  over  the  fire.  We  had  salt ;  we 
were  very  hungry ;  and  I  never  ate  anything  that  tasted 
better. 

The  wapiti  is,  next  to  the  moose,  the  most  quarrelsome 
and  pugnacious  of  American  deer.  It  cannot  be  said  that 


1 62  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

it  is  ordinarily  a  dangerous  beast  to  hunt ;  yet  there  are 
instances  in  which  wounded  wapiti,  incautiously  approached 
to  within  striking  distance,  have  severely  misused  their 
assailants,  both  with  their  antlers  and  their  forefeet.  I 
myself  knew  one  man  who  had  been  badly  mauled  in  this 
fashion.  When  tamed  the  bulls  are  dangerous  to  human 
life  in  the  rutting  season.  In  a  grapple  they  are  of  course 
infinitely  more  to  be  dreaded  than  ordinary  deer,  because 
of  their  great  strength. 

However,  the  fiercest  wapiti  bull,  when  in  a  wild  state, 
flees  the  neighborhood  of  man  with  the  same  panic  terror 
shown  by  the  cows ;  and  he  makes  no  stand  against  a 
grisly,  though  when  his  horns  are  grown  he  has  little  fear 
of  either  wolf  or  cougar  if  on  his  guard  and  attacked  fairly. 
The  chief  battles  of  the  bulls  are  of  course  waged  with  one 
another.  Before  the  beginning  of  the  rut  they  keep  by 
themselves  :  singly,  while  the  sprouting  horns  are  still  very 
young,  at  which  time  they  lie  in  secluded  spots  and  move 
about  as  little  as  possible ;  in  large  bands,  later  in  the 
season.  At  the  beginning  of  the  fall  these  bands  join  with 
one  another  and  with  the  bands  of  cows  and  calves,  which 
have  likewise  been  keeping  to  themselves  during  the  late 
winter,  the  spring,  and  the  summer.  Vast  herds  are  thus 
sometimes  formed,  containing,  in  the  old  days  when  wapiti 
were  plenty,  thousands  of  head.  The  bulls  now  begin  to 
fight  furiously  with  one  another,  and  the  great  herd  be- 
comes split  into  smaller  ones.  Each  of  these  has  one 
master  bull,  who  has  won  his  position  by  savage  battle, 
and  keeps  it  by  overcoming  every  rival,  whether  a  solitary 
bull,  or  the  lord  of  another  harem,  who  challenges  him. 


7^ he  Wapiti  or  Round-Horned  Elk.     163 

When  not  fighting  or  love-making  he  is  kept  on  the  run, 
chasing  away  the  young  bulls  who  venture  to  pay  court  to 
the  cows.  He  has  hardly  time  to  eat  or  sleep,  and  soon 
becomes  gaunt  and  worn  to  a  degree.  At  the  close  of  the 
rut  many  of  the  bulls  become  so  emaciated  that  they  retire 
to  some  secluded  spot  to  recuperate.  They  are  so  weak 
that  they  readily  succumb  to  the  elements,  or  to  their 
brute  foes  ;  many  die  from  sheer  exhaustion. 

The  battles  between  the  bulls  rarely  result  fatally. 
After  a  longer  or  shorter  period  of  charging,  pushing,  and 
struggling  the  heavier  or  more  enduring  of  the  two  begins 
to  shove  his  weaker  antagonist  back  and  round  ;  and  the 
latter  then  watches  his  chance  and  bolts,  hotly,  but  as  a 
rule  harmlessly,  pursued  for  a  few  hundred  yards.  The 
massive  branching  antlers  serve  as  effective  guards  against 
the  most  wicked  thrusts.  While  the  antagonists  are  head 
on,  the  worst  that  can  happen  is  a  punch  on  the  shoulder 
which  will  not  break  the  thick  hide,  though  it  may  bruise 
the  flesh  underneath.  It  is  only  when  a  beast  is  caught 
while  turning  that  there  is  a  chance  to  deliver  a  possibly 
deadly  stab  in  the  flank,  with  the  brow  prongs,  the  "  dog- 
killers  "  as  they  are  called  in  bucks.  Sometimes,  but 
rarely,  fighting  wapiti  get  their  antlers  interlocked  and 
perish  miserably  ;  my  own  ranch,  the  Elkhorn,  was  named 
from  finding  on  the  spot  where  the  ranch  house  now 
stands  two  splendid  pairs  of  elk  antlers  thus  interlocked. 

Wapiti  keep  their  antlers  until  the  spring,  whereas 
deer  and  moose  lose  theirs  by  midwinter.  The  bull's  be- 
havior in  relation  to  the  cow  is  merely  that  of  a  vicious 
and  brutal  coward.  He  bullies  her  continually,  and  in 


1 64  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

times  of  danger  his  one  thought  is  for  sneaking  off  to 
secure  his  own  safety.  For  all  his  noble  looks  he  is  a 
very  unamiable  beast,  who  behaves  with  brutal  ferocity  to 
the  weak,  and  shows  abject  terror  of  the  strong.  Accord- 
ing to  his  powers,  he  is  guilty  of  rape,  robbery,  and  even 
murder.  I  never  felt  the  least  compunction  at  shooting  a 
bull,  but  I  hate  to  shoot  a  cow,  even  when  forced  by  neces- 
sity. Maternity  must  always  appeal  to  any  one.  A  cow 
has  more  courage  than  a  bull.  She  will  fight  valiantly  for 
her  young  calf,  striking  such  blows  with  her  forefeet  that 
most  beasts  of  prey  at  once  slink  away  from  the  combat. 
Cougars  and  wolves  commit  great  ravages  among  the 
bands  ;  but  they  often  secure  their  quarry  only  at  the  cost 
of  sharp  preliminary  tussles — and  in  tussles  of  this  kind 
they  do  not  always  prove  victors  or  escape  scathless. 

During  the  rut  the  bulls  are  very  noisy  ;  and  their  notes 
of  amorous  challenge  are  called  "  whistling  "  by  the  fron- 
tiersmen,— very  inappropriately.  They  begin  to  whistle 
about  ten  days  before  they  begin  to  run  ;  and  they  have 
in  addition  an  odd  kind  of  bark,  which  is  only  heard  occa- 
sionally. The  whistling  is  a  most  curious,  and  to  me  a 
most  attractive  sound,  when  heard  in  the  great  lonely 
mountains.  As  with  so  many  other  things,  much  depends 
upon  the  surroundings.  When  listened  to  nearby  and 
under  unfavorable  circumstances,  the  sound  resembles  a 
succession  of  hoarse  whistling  roars,  ending  with  two  or 
three  gasping  grunts. 

But  heard  at  a  little  distance,  and  in  its  proper  place, 
the  call  of  the  wapiti  is  one  of  the  grandest  and  most 
beautiful  sounds  in  nature.  Especially  is  this  the  case 


The  Wapiti  or  Round-Horned  Elk.     165 

when  several  rivals  are  answering  one  another,  on  some 
frosty  moonlight  night  in  the  mountains.  The  wild  melody 
rings  from  chasm  to  chasm  under  the  giant  pines,  sustained 
and  modulated,  through  bar  after  bar,  filled  with  challenge 
and  proud  anger.  It  thrills  the  soul  of  the  listening  hunter. 

Once,  while  in  the  mountains,  I  listened  to  a  peculiarly 
grand  chorus  of  this  kind.  We  were  travelling  with  pack 
ponies  at  the  time,  and  our  tent  was  pitched  in  a  grove  of 
yellow  pine,  by  a  brook  in  the  bottom  of  a  valley.  On 
either  hand  rose  the  mountains,  covered  with  spruce  forest. 
It  was  in  September,  and  the  first  snow  had  just  fallen. 

The  day  before  we  had  walked  long  and  hard  ;  and 
during  the  night  I  slept  the  heavy  sleep  of  the  weary. 
Early  in  the  morning,  just  as  the  east  began  to  grow  gray, 
I  waked ;  and  as  I  did  so,  the  sounds  that  smote  on  my 
ear,  caused  me  to  sit  up  and  throw  off  the  warm  blankets. 
Bull  elk  were  challenging  among  the  mountains  on  both 
sides  of  the  valley,  a  little  way  from  us,  their  notes  echo- 
ing like  the  calling  of  silver  bugles.  Groping  about  in  the 
dark,  I  drew  on  my  trousers,  an  extra  pair  of  thick  socks, 
and  my  moccasins,  donned  a  warm  jacket,  found  my  fur 
cap  and  gloves,  and  stole  out  of  the  tent  with  my  rifle. 

The  air  was  very  cold ;  the  stars  were  beginning  to 
pale  in  the  dawn  ;  on  the  ground  the  snow  glimmered 
white,  and  lay  in  feathery  masses  on  the  branches  of  the 
balsams  and  young  pines.  The  air  rang  with  the  chal- 
lenges of  many  wapiti ;  their  incessant  calling  came  peal- 
ing down  through  the  still,  snow-laden  woods.  First  one 
bull  challenged ;  then  another  answered ;  then  another 
and  another.  Two  herds  were  approaching  one  another 


166  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

from  opposite  sides  of  the  valley,  a  short  distance  above 
our  camp  ;  and  the  master  bulls  were  roaring  defiance  as 
they  mustered  their  harems. 

I  walked  stealthily  up  the  valley,  until  I  felt  that  I 
was  nearly  between  the  two  herds  ;  and  then  stood  motion- 
less under  a  tall  pine.  The  ground  was  quite  open  at  this 
point,  the  pines,  though  large,  being  scattered ;  the  little 
brook  ran  with  a  strangled  murmur  between  its  rows  of 
willows  and  alders,  for  the  ice  along  its  edges  nearly 
skimmed  its  breadth.  The  stars  paled  rapidly,  the  gray  dawn 
brightened,  and  in  the  sky  overhead  faint  rose-colored 
streaks  were  turning  blood-red.  What  little  wind  there 
was  breathed  in  my  face  and  kept  me  from  discovery. 

I  made  up  my  mind,  from  the  sound  of  the  challenging, 
now  very  near  me,  that  one  bull  on  my  right  was  advancing 
towards  a  rival  on  my  left,  who  was  answering  every  call. 
Soon  the  former  approached  so  near  that  I  could  hear  him 
crack  the  branches,  and  beat  the  bushes  with  his  horns ; 
and  I  slipped  quietly  from  tree  to  tree,  so  as  to  meet  him 
when  he  came  out  into  the  more  open  woodland.  Day 
broke,  and  crimson  gleams  played  across  the  snow-clad 
mountains  beyond. 

At  last,  just  as  the  sun  flamed  red  above  the  hill-tops, 
I  heard  the  roar  of  the  wapiti's  challenge  not  fifty  yards 
away ;  and  I  cocked  and  half  raised  my  rifle,  and  stood 
motionless.  In  a  moment  more,  the  belt  of  spruces  in 
front  of  me  swayed  and  opened,  and  the  lordly  bull  stepped 
out.  He  bore  his  massive  antlers  aloft ;  the  snow  lay  thick 
on  his  mane ;  he  snuffed  the  air  and  stamped  on  the  ground 
as  he  walked.  As  I  drew  a  bead,  the  motion  caught  his 


The  Wapiti  or  Round-Horned  Elk.     167 

eye  ;  and  instantly  his  bearing  of  haughty  and  warlike 
self-confidence  changed  to  one  of  alarm.  My  bullet  smote 
through  his  shoulder-blades,  and  he  plunged  wildly  for- 
ward, and  fell  full  length  on  the  blood-stained  snow. 

Nothing  can  be  finer  than  a  wapiti  bull's  carriage  when 
excited  or  alarmed ;  he  then  seems  the  embodiment  of 
strength  and  stately  grace.  But  at  ordinary  times  his 
looks  are  less  attractive,  as  he  walks  with  his  neck  level 
with  his  body  and  his  head  outstretched,  his  horns  lying 
almost  on  his  shoulders.  The  favorite  gait  of  the  wapiti 
is  the  trot,  which  is  very  fast,  and  which  they  can  keep  up 
for  countless  miles  ;  when  suddenly  and  greatly  alarmed, 
they  break  into  an  awkward  gallop,  which  is  faster,  but 
which  speedily  tires  them. 

I  have  occasionally  killed  elk  in  the  neighborhood  of 
my  ranch  on  the  Little  Missouri.  They  were  very  plentiful 
along  this  river  until  1881,  but  the  last  of  the  big  bands 
were  slaughtered  or  scattered  about  that  time.  Smaller 
bunches  were  found  for  two  or  three  years  longer  ;  and  to 
this  day,  scattered  individuals,  singly  or  in  parties  of  two 
or  three,  linger  here  and  there  in  the  most  remote  and 
inaccessible  parts  of  the  broken  country.  In  the  old 
times  they  were  often  found  on  the  open  prairie,  and  were 
fond  of  sunning  themselves  on  the  sand  bars  by  the  river, 
even  at  midday,  while  they  often  fed  by  daylight  (as  they 
do  still  in  remote  mountain  fastnesses).  Nowadays  the 
few  survivors  dwell  in  the  timber  of  the  roughest  ravines, 
and  only  venture  abroad  at  dusk  or  even  after  nightfall. 
Thanks  to  their  wariness  and  seclusiveness,  their  presence 
is  often  not  even  suspected  by  the  cowboys  or  others  who 


1 68  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

occasionally  ride  through  their  haunts  ;  and  so  the  hunters 
only  know  vaguely  of  their  existence.  It  thus  happens 
that  the  last  individuals  of  a  species  may  linger  in  a 
locality  for  many  years  after  the  rest  of  their  kind  have 
vanished ;  on  the  Little  Missouri  to-day  every  elk  (as  in 
the  Rockies  every  buffalo)  killed  is  at  once  set  down  as 
"  the  last  of  its  race."  For  several  years  in  succession  I 
myself  kept  killing  one  or  two  such  "  last  survivors." 

A  yearling  bull  which  I  thus  obtained  was  killed  while  in 
company  with  my  staunch  friend  Will  Dow,  on  one  of  the 
first  trips  which  I  took  with  that  prince  of  drivers,  old  man 
Tompkins.  We  were  laying  in  our  stock  of  winter  meat ; 
and  had  taken  the  wagon  to  go  to  a  knot  of  high  and 
very  rugged  hills  where  we  knew  there  were  deer,  and 
thought  there  might  be  elk.  Old  Tompkins  drove  the 
wagon  with  unmoved  composure  up,  down,  and  across 
frightful-looking  hills,  and  when  they  became  wholly 
impassable,  steered  the  team  over  a  cut  bank  and  up  a 
kind  of  winding  ravine  or  wooded  washout,  until  it  became 
too  rough  and  narrow  for  farther  progress.  There  was 
good  grass  for  the  horses  on  a  hill  off  to  one  side  of  us ; 
and  stunted  cottonwood  trees  grew  between  the  straight 
white  walls  of  clay  and  sandstone  which  hemmed  in  the 
washout.  We  pitched  our  tent  by  a  little  trickling  spring 
and  kindled  a  great  fire,  the  fitful  glare  lighting  the  bare 
cliffs  and  the  queer,  sprawling  tops  of  the  cottonwoods; 
and  after  a  dinner  of  fried  prairie-chicken  went  to  bed. 
At  dawn  we  were  off,  and  hunted  till  nearly  noon  ;  when 
Dow,  who  had  been  walking  to  one  side,  beckoned  to  me 
and  remarked, "  There 's  something  mighty  big  in  the  timber 


The  Wapiti  or  Round-Horned  Elk.     169 

down  under  the  cliff ;  I  guess  it 's  an  elk  "  (he  had  never 
seen  one  before)  ;  and  the  next  moment,  as  old  Tompkins 
expressed  it,  "  the  elk  came  bilin'  out  of  thecoulie."  Old 
Tompkins  had  a  rifle  on  this  occasion  and  the  sight  of 
game  always  drove  him  crazy ;  as  I  aimed  I  heard  Dow 
telling  him  "  to  let  the  boss  do  the  shooting  "  ;  and  I  killed 
the  elk  to  a  savage  interjectional  accompaniment  of  threats 
delivered  at  old  man  Tompkins  between  the  shots. 

Elk  are  sooner  killed  off  than  any  other  game  save 
buffalo,  but  this  is  due  to  their  size  and  the  nature  of  the 
ground  they  frequent  rather  than  to  their  lack  of  shyness. 
They  like  open  woodland,  or  mountainous  park  country, 
or  hills  riven  by  timber  coulies ;  and  such  ground  is  the 
most  favorable  to  the  hunter,  and  the  most  attractive  in 
which  to  hunt.  On  the  other  hand  moose,  for  instance, 
live  in  such  dense  cover  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  get  at 
them  ;  when  elk  are  driven  by  incessant  persecution  to  take 
refuge  in  similar  fastnesses  they  become  almost  as  hard  to 
kill.  In  fact,  in  this  respect  the  elk  stands  to  the  moose 
much  as  the  blacktail  stands  to  the  whitetail.  The  moose 
and  whitetail  are  somewhat  warier  than  the  elk  and  black- 
tail  ;  but  it  is  the  nature  of  the  ground  which  they  inhabit 
that  tells  most  in  their  favor.  On  the  other  hand,  as  com- 
pared to  the  blacktail,  it  is  only  the  elk's  size  which  puts  it 
at  a  disadvantage  in  the  struggle  for  life  when  the  rifle- 
bearing  hunter  appears  on  the  scene.  It  is  quite  as  shy 
and  difficult  to  approach  as  the  deer  ;  but  its  bulk  renders 
it  much  more  eagerly  hunted,  more  readily  seen,  and  more 
easily  hit.  Occasionally  elk  suffer  from  fits  of  stupid  tame- 
ness  or  equally  stupid  panic ;  but  the  same  is  true  of 


1 70  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

blacktail.  In  two  or  three  instances,  I  have  seen  elk  show 
silly  ignorance  of  danger  ;  but  half  a  dozen  times  I  have 
known  blacktail  behave  with  an  even  greater  degree  of 
stupid  familiarity. 

There  is  another  point  in  which  the  wapiti  and  black- 
tail  agree  in  contrast  to  the  moose  and  whitetail.  Both 
the  latter  delight  in  water-lilies,  entering  the  ponds  to  find 
them,  and  feeding  on  them  greedily.  The  wapiti  is  very 
fond  of  wallowing  in  the  mud,  and  of  bathing  in  pools 
and  lakes  ;  but  as  a  rule  it  shows  as  little  fondness  as 
the  blacktail  for  feeding  on  water-lilies  or  other  aquatic 
plants. 

In  reading  of  the  European  red  deer,  which  is  nothing 
but  a  diminutive  wapiti,  we  often  see  a  "  stag  of  ten " 
alluded  to  as  if  a  full-grown  monarch.  A  full-grown  wapiti 
bull,  however,  always  has  twelve,  and  may  have  fourteen, 
regular  normal  points  on  his  antlers,  besides  irregular  ad- 
ditional prongs ;  and  he  occasionally  has  ten  points  when 
a  two-year-old,  as  I  have  myself  seen  with  calves  captured 
young  and  tamed.  The  calf  has  no  horns.  The  yearling 
carries  two  foot-long  spikes,  sometimes  bifurcated,  so  as  to 
make  four  points.  The  two-year-old  often  has  six  or 
eight  points  on  his  antlers  ;  but  sometimes  ten,  although 
they  are  always  small.  The  three-year-old  has  eight  or  ten 
points,  while  his  body  may  be  nearly  as  large  as  that  of  a 
full-grown  animal.  The  four-year-old  is  normally  a  ten  or 
twelve  pointer,  but  as  yet  with  much  smaller  antlers  than 
those  so  proudly  borne  by  the  old  bulls. 

Frontiersmen  only  occasionally  distinguish  the  prongs 
by  name.  The  brow  and  bay  points  are  called  dog-killers 


The  Wapiti  or  Round-Horned  Rlk. 

or  war-tines  ;  the  tray  is  known  simply  as  the  third  point ; 
and  the  most  characteristic  prong,  the  long  and  massive 
fourth,  is  now  and  then  called  the  dagger-point ;  the  others 
being  known  as  the  fifth  and  sixth. 

In  the  high  mountain  forest  into  which  the  wapiti  has 
been  driven,  the  large,  heavily  furred  northern  lynx,  the 
lucivee,  takes  the  place  of  the  smaller,  thinner-haired  lynx 
of  the  plains  and  of  the  more  southern  districts,  the  bob- 
cat or  wildcat.  On  the  Little  Missouri  the  latter  is  the 
common  form  ;  yet  I  have  seen  a  lucivee  which  was  killed 
there.  On  Clarke's  Fork  of  the  Columbia  both  occur,  the 
lucivee  being  the  most  common.  They  feed  chiefly  on 
hares,  squirrels,  grouse,  fawns,  etc.  ;  and  the  lucivee,  at 
least,  also  occasionally  kills  foxes  and  coons,  and  has  in  its 
turn  to  dread  the  pounce  of  the  big  timber  wolf.  Both 
kinds  of  lynx  can  most  easily  be  killed  with  dogs,  as  they 
tree  quite  readily  when  thus  pursued.  The  wildcat  is  often 
followed  on  horseback,  with  a  pack  of  hounds,  when  the 
country  is  favorable  ;  and  when  chased  in  this  fashion 
yields  excellent  sport.  The  skin  of  both  these  lynxes  is 
tender.  They  often  maul  an  inexperienced  pack  quite 
badly,  inflicting  severe  scratches  and  bites  on  any  hound 
which  has  just  resolution  enough  to  come  to  close  quarters, 
but  not  to  rush  in  furiously  ;  but  a  big  fighting  dog  will 
readily  kill  either.  At  Thompson's  Falls  two  of  Willis1 
hounds  killed  a  lucivee  unaided,  though  one  got  torn. 
Archibald  Rogers'  dog  Sly,  a  cross  between  a  greyhound 
and  a  bull  mastiff,  killed  a  bobcat  single-handed.  He 
bayed  the  cat  and  then  began  to  threaten  it,  leaping  from 
side  to  side  ;  suddenly  he  broke  the  motion,  and  rushing 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

in  got  his  foe  by  the  small  of  the  back  and  killed  it  with- 
out receiving  a  scratch. 

The  porcupine  is  sure  to  attract  the  notice  of  any  one 
going  through  the  mountains.  It  is  also  found  in  the 
timber  belts  fringing  the  streams  of  the  great  plains, 
where  it  lives  for  a  week  at  a  time  in  a  single  tree  or 
clump  of  trees,  peeling  the  bark  from  the  limbs.  But  it 
is  the  easiest  of  all  animals  to  exterminate,  and  is  now 
abundant  only  in  deep  mountain  forests.  It  is  very  tame 
and  stupid  ;  it  goes  on  the  ground,  but  its  fastest  pace  is 
a  clumsy  waddle,  and  on  trees,  but  is  the  poorest  of  tree- 
climbers, — grasping  the  trunk  like  a  small,  slow  bear.  It 
can  neither  escape  nor  hide.  It  trusts  to  its  quills  for 
protection,  as  the  skunk  does  to  its  odor ;  but  it  is  far  less 
astute  and  more  helpless  than  the  skunk.  It  is  readily 
made  into  a  very  unsuspicious  and  familiar,  but  uninter- 
esting, pet.  I  have  known  it  come  into  camp  in  the  day- 
time, and  forage  round  the  fire  by  which  I  was  sitting. 
Its  coat  protects  it  against  most  foes.  Bears  sometimes 
eat  it  when  very  hungry,  as  they  will  eat  anything ;  and  I 
think  that  elk  occasionally  destroy  it  in  sheer  wantonness. 
One  of  its  most  resolute  foes  is  the  fisher,  that  big  sable 
— almost  a  wolverine — which  preys  on  everything,  from 
a  coon  to  a  fawn,  or  even  a  small  fox. 

The  noisy,  active  little  chickarees  and  chipmunks, 
however,  are  by  far  the  most  numerous  and  lively  deni- 
zens of  these  deep  forests.  They  are  very  abundant  and 
very  noisy  ;  scolding  the  travellers  exactly  as  they  do  the 
bears  when  the  latter  dig  up  the  caches  of  ants.  The 
chipmunks  soon  grow  tame  and  visit  camp  to  pick  up  the 


The  Wapiti  or  Round-Horned  Elk.     173 

crusts.  The  chickarees  often  ascend  to  the  highest  pine 
tops,  where  they  cut  off  the  cones,  dropping  them  to  the 
ground  with  a  noise  which  often  for  a  moment  puzzles 
the  still-hunter. 

Two  of  the  most  striking  and  characteristic  birds  to  be 
seen  by  him  who  hunts  and  camps  among  the  pine-clad 
and  spruce-clad  slopes  of  the  northern  Rockies  are  a  small 
crow  and  a  rather  large  woodpecker.  The  former  is 
called  Clarke's  crow,  and  the  latter  Lewis'  woodpecker. 
Their  names  commemorate  their  discoverers,  the  explorers 
Lewis  and  Clarke,  the  first  white  men  who  crossed  the 
United  States  to  the  Pacific,  the  pioneers  of  that  great 
army  of  adventurers  who  since  then  have  roamed  and 
hunted  over  the  Great  Plains  and  among  the  Rocky 
Mountains. 

These  birds  are  nearly  of  a  size,  being  about  as  large 
as  a  flicker.  The  Clarke's  crow,  an  ash-colored  bird  with 
black  wings  and  white  tail  and  forehead,  is  as  common  as 
it  is  characteristic,  and  is  sure  to  attract  attention.  It  is 
as  knowing  as  the  rest  of  its  race,  and  very  noisy  and 
active.  It  flies  sometimes  in  a  straight  line,  with  regular 
wing-beats,  sometimes  in  a  succession  of  loops  like  a 
woodpecker,  and  often  lights  on  rough  bark  or  a  dead 
stump  in  an  attitude  like  the  latter  ;  and  it  is  very  fond  of 
scrambling  and  clinging,  often  head  downwards,  among 
the  outermost  cones  on  the  top  of  a  pine,  chattering  loudly 
all  the  while.  One  of  the  noticeable  features  of  its  flight 
is  the  hollow,  beating  sound  of  the  wings.  It  is  restless 
and  fond  of  company,  going  by  preference  in  small  parties. 
These  little  parties  often  indulge  in  regular  plays,  assem- 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

bling  in  some  tall  tree-top  and  sailing  round  and  round  it, 
in  noisy  pursuit  of  one  another,  lighting  continually  among 
the  branches. 

The  Lewis'  woodpecker,  a  handsome,  dark-green  bird, 
with  white  breast  and  red  belly,  is  much  rarer,  quite  as 
shy,  and  generally  less  noisy  and  conspicuous.  Its  flight 
is  usually  strong  and  steady,  like  a  jay's,  and  it  perches 
upright  among  the  twigs,  or  takes  short  flights  after  pass- 
ing insects,  as  often  as  it  scrambles  over  the  twigs  in  the 
ordinary  woodpecker  fashion.  Like  its  companion,  the 
Clarke's  crow,  it  is  ordinarily  a  bird  of  the  high  tree-tops, 
and  around  these  it  indulges  in  curious  aerial  games,  again 
like  those  of  the  little  crow.  It  is  fond  of  going  in  troops, 
and  such  a  troop  frequently  choose  some  tall  pine  and 
soar  round  and  above  it  in  irregular  spirals. 

The  remarkable  and  almost  amphibious  little  water 
wren,  with  its  sweet  song,  its  familiarity,  and  its  very 
curious  habit  of  running  on  the  bottom  of  the  stream,  sev- 
eral feet  beneath  the  surface  of  the  race  of  rapid  water, 
is  the  most  noticeable  of  the  small  birds  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  It  sometimes  sings  loudly  while  floating  with 
half-spread  wings  on  the  surface  of  a  little  pool.  Taken 
as  a  whole,  small  birds  are  far  less  numerous  and  notice- 
able in  the  wilderness,  especially  in  the  deep  forests,  than 
in  the  groves  and  farmland  of  the  settled  country.  The 
hunter  and  trapper  are  less  familiar  with  small-bird  music 
than  with  the  screaming  of  the  eagle  and  the  large  hawks, 
the  croaking  bark  of  the  raven,  the  loon's  cry,  the  crane's 
guttural  clangor,  and  the  unearthly  yelling  and  hooting  of 
the  big  owls. 


The  Wapiti  or  Round-Horned  Elk.     175 

No  bird  is  so  common  around  camp,  so  familiar,  so 
amusing  on  some  occasions,  and  so  annoying  on  others, 
as  that  drab-colored  imp  of  iniquity,  the  whisky-jack — also 
known  as  the  moose  bird  and  camp  robber.  The  familiarity 
of  these  birds  is  astonishing,  and  the  variety  of  their  cries, 
—generally  harsh,  but  rarely  musical — extraordinary.  They 
snatch  scraps  of  food  from  the  entrances  of  the  tents,  and 
from  beside  the  camp  fire  ;  and  they  shred  the  venison  hung 
in  the  trees  unless  closely  watched.  I  have  seen  an  irate 
cook  of  accurate  aim  knock  one  off  an  elk-haunch,  with  a 
club  seized  at  random  ;  and  I  have  known  another  to  be 
killed  with  a  switch,  and  yet  another  to  be  caught  alive  in 
the  hand.  When  game  is  killed  they  are  the  first  birds  to 
come  to  the  carcass.  Following  them  come  the  big  jays, 
of  a  uniform  dark-blue  color,  who  bully  them,  and  are  bullied 
in  turn  by  the  next  arrivals,  the  magpies ;  while  when  the 
big  ravens  come,  they  keep  all  the  others  in  the  back- 
ground, with  the  exception  of  an  occasional  wide-awake 
magpie. 

For  a  steady  diet  no  meat  tastes  better  or  is  more 
nourishing  than  elk  venison  ;  moreover  the  different  kinds 
of  grouse  give  variety  to  the  fare,  and  delicious  trout  swarm 
throughout  the  haunts  of  the  elk  in  the  Rockies.  I  have 
never  seen  them  more  numerous  than  in  the  wonderful  and 
beautiful  Yellowstone  Canyon,  a  couple  of  miles  below 
where  the  river  pitches  over  the  Great  Falls,  in  wind- 
swayed  cataracts  of  snowy  foam.  At  this  point  it  runs  like 
a  mill-race,  in  its  narrow  winding  bed,  between  immense 
walls  of  queerly  carved  and  colored  rock  which  tower  aloft 
in  almost  perpendicular  cliffs.  Late  one  afternoon  in  the  fall 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

of  '90  Ferguson  and  I  clambered  down  into  the  canyon, 
with  a  couple  of  rods,  and  in  an  hour  caught  all  the  fish  we 
could  carry.  It  then  lacked  much  less  than  an  hour  of 
nightfall,  and  we  had  a  hard  climb  to  get  out  of  the  canyon 
before  darkness  overtook  us  ;  as  there  was  not  a  vestige  of 
a  path,  and  as  the  climbing  was  exceedingly  laborious  and 
at  one  or  two  points  not  entirely  without  danger,  the  rocks 
being  practicable  in  very  few  places,  we  could  hardly  have 
made  much  progress  after  it  became  too  dark  to  see.  Each 
of  us  carried  the  bag  of  trout  in  turn,  and  I  personally  was 
nearly  done  out  when  we  reached  the  top  ;  and  then  had 
to  trot  three  miles  to  the  horses. 


THE   YELLOWSTONE   CANYON. 


CHAPTER  X. 

AN  ELK-HUNT  AT  TWO-OCEAN  PASS. 

IN  September,  1891,  with  my  ranch-partner,  Ferguson, 
I  made  an  elk-hunt  in  northwestern  Wyoming  among 
the  Shoshone  Mountains,  where  they  join  the  Hoodoo 
and  Absoraka  ranges.  There  is  no  more  beautiful  game- 
country  in  the  U  nited  States.  1 1  is  a  park  land,  where  glades, 
meadows,  and  high  mountain  pastures  break  the  evergreen 
forest ;  a  forest  which  is  open  compared  to  the  tangled 
density  of  the  woodland  farther  north.  It  is  a  high,  cold 
region  of  many  lakes  and  clear  rushing  streams.  The 
steep  mountains  are  generally  of  the  rounded  form  so  often 
seen  in  the  ranges  of  the  Cordilleras  of  the  United  States  ; 
but  the  Koodoos,  or  Goblins,  are  carved  in  fantastic  and 
extraordinary  shapes  ;  while  the  Tetons,  a  group  of  isolated 
rock-peaks,  show  a  striking  boldness  in  their  lofty  out- 
lines. 

This  was  one  of  the  pleasantest  hunts  I  ever  made. 
As  always  in  the  mountains,  save  where  the  country  is  so 
rough  and  so  densely  wooded  that  one  must  go  a-foot,  we 
had  a  pack-train  ;  and  we  took  a  more  complete  outfit  than 
we  had  ever  before  taken  on  such  a  hunt,  and  so  travelled 

177 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

in  much  comfort.  Usually  when  in  the  mountains  I  have 
merely  had  one  companion,  or  at  most  a  couple,  and  two 
or  three  pack-ponies ;  each  of  us  doing  his  share  of  the 
packing,  cooking,  fetching  water,  and  pitching  the  small 
square  of  canvas  which  served  as  tent.  In  itself  packing 
is  both  an  art  and  a  mystery,  and  a  skilful  professional 
packer,  versed  in  the  intricacies  of  the  "  diamond 
hitch,"  packs  with  a  speed  which  no  non-professional 
can  hope  to  rival,  and  fixes  the  side  packs  and  top  packs 
with  such  scientific  nicety,  and  adjusts  the  doubles  and 
turns  of  the  lash-rope  so  accurately,  that  everything  stays 
in  place  under  any  but  the  most  adverse  conditions.  Of 
course,  like  most  hunters,  I  can  myself  in  case  of  need 
throw  the  diamond  hitch  after  a  fashion,  and  pack  on 
either  the  off  or  near  side.  Indeed,  unless  a  man  can  pack 
it  is  not  possible  to  make  a  really  hard  hunt  in  the  moun- 
tains, if  alone,  or  with  only  a  single  companion.  The  mere 
fair-weather  hunter,  who  trusts  entirely  to  the  exertions  of 
others,  and  does  nothing  more  than  ride  or  walk  about 
under  favorable  circumstances,  and  shoot  at  what  somebody 
else  shows  him,  is  a  hunter  in  name  only.  Whoever  would 
really  deserve  the  title  must  be  able  at  a  pinch  to  shift  for 
himself,  to  grapple  with  the  difficulties  and  hardships  of 
wilderness  life  unaided,  and  not  only  to  hunt,  but  at  times 
to  travel  for  days,  whether  on  foot  or  on  horseback,  alone. 
However,  after  one  has  passed  one's  novitiate,  it  is  pleasant 
to  be  comfortable  when  the  comfort  does  not  interfere  with 
the  sport ;  and  although  a  man  sometimes  likes  to  hunt 
alone,  yet  often  it  is  well  to  be  with  some  old  mountain 
hunter,  a  master  of  woodcraft,  who  is  a  first-rate  hand  at 


An  Rlk-Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     179 

finding  game,  creeping  upon  it,  and  tracking  it  when 
wounded.  With  such  a  companion  one  gets  much  more 
game,  and  learns  many  things  by  observation  instead  of  by 
painful  experience. 

On  this  trip  we  had  with  us  two  hunters,  Tazewel1 
Woody  and  Elwood  Hofer,  a  packer  who  acted  as  cook, 
and  a  boy  to  herd  the  horses.  Of  the  latter,  there  were 
twenty  ;  six  saddle-animals  and  fourteen  for  the  packs — two 
or  three  being  spare  horses,  to  be  used  later  in  carrying  the 
elk-antlers,  sheep-horns,  and  other  trophies.  Like  most 
hunters'  pack-animals,  they  were  either  half  broken,  or  else 
broken  down  ;  tough,  unkempt,  jaded-looking  beasts  of 
every  color — sorrel,  buckskin,  pinto,  white,  bay,  roan. 
After  the  day's  work  was  over,  they  were  turned  loose  to 
shift  for  themselves  ;  and  about  once  a  week  they  strayed, 
and  all  hands  had  to  spend  the  better  part  of  the  day  hunt- 
ing for  them.  The  worst  ones  for  straying,  curiously 
enough,  were  three  broken-down  old  "  bear-baits,"  which 
went  by  themselves,  as  is  generally  the  case  with  the  cast- 
off  horses  of  a  herd.  There  were  two  sleeping-tents, 
another  for  the  provisions, — in  which  we  ate  during  bad 
weather, — and  a  canvas  tepee,  which  was  put  up  with 
lodge-poles,  Indian  fashion,  like  a  wigwam.  A  tepee  is 
more  difficult  to  put  up  than  an  ordinary  tent ;  but  it  is  very 
convenient  when  there  is  rain  or  snow.  A  small  fire  kindled 
in  the  middle  keeps  it  warm,  the  smoke  escaping  through 
the  open  top — that  is,  when  it  escapes  at  all ;  strings  are 
passed  from  one  pole  to  another,  on  which  to  hang  wet 
clothes  and  shoes,  and  the  beds  are  made  around  the 
edges.  As  an  offset  to  the  warmth  and  shelter,  the  smoke 


i8o  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

often  renders  it  impossible  even  to  sit  upright.  We  had  a 
very  good  camp-kit,  including  plenty  of  cooking-  and  eat- 
ing-utensils ;  and  among  our  provisions  were  some  canned 
goods  and  sweetmeats,  to  give  a  relish  to  our  meals  of  meat 
and  bread.  We  had  fur  coats  and  warm  clothes, — which 
are  chiefly  needed  at  night, — and  plenty  of  bedding,  includ- 
ing water-proof  canvas  sheeting  and  a  couple  of  caribou- 
hide  sleeping-bags,  procured  from  the  survivors  of  a  party 
of  arctic  explorers.  Except  on  rainy  days  I  used  my  buck- 
skin hunting-shirt  or  tunic ;  in  dry  weather  I  deem  it, 
because  of  its  color,  texture,  and  durability,  the  best 
possible  garb  for  the  still-hunter,  especially  in  the  woods. 

Starting  a  day's  journey  south  of  Heart  Lake,  we 
travelled  and  hunted  on  the  eastern  edge  of  the  great  basin, 
wooded  and  mountainous,  wherein  rise  the  head-waters  of 
the  mighty  Snake  River.  There  was  not  so  much  as  a 
spotted  line — that  series  of  blazes  made  with  the  axe,  man's 
first  highway  through  the  hoary  forest, — but  this  we  did 
not  mind,  as  for  most  of  the  distance  we  followed  well-worn 
elk-trails.  The  train  travelled  in  Indian  file.  At  the  head, 
to  pick  the  path,  rode  tall,  silent  old  Woody,  a  true  type 
of  the  fast-vanishing  race  of  game  hunters  and  Indian 
fighters,  a  man  who  had  been  one  of  the  California  forty- 
niners,  and  who  ever  since  had  lived  the  restless,  reckless 
life  of  the  wilderness.  Then  came  Ferguson  and  myself ; 
then  the  pack-animals,  strung  out  in  line ;  while  from  the 
rear  rose  the  varied  oaths  of  our  three  companions,  whose 
miserable  duty  it  was  to  urge  forward  the  beasts  of  burden. 

It  is  heart-breaking  work  to  drive  a  pack-train  through 
thick  timber  and  over  mountains,  where  there  is  either  a 


An  Elk- Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     181 

dim  trail  or  none.  The  animals  have  a  perverse  faculty 
for  choosing  the  wrong  turn  at  critical  moments;  and  they 
are  continually  scraping  under  branches  and  squeezing  be- 
tween tree-trunks,  to  the  jeopardy  or  destruction  of  their 
burdens.  After  having  been  laboriously  driven  up  a  very 
steep  incline,  at  the  cost  of  severe  exertion  both  to  them 
and  to  the  men,  the  foolish  creatures  turn  and  run  down 
to  the  bottom,  so  that  all  the  work  has  to  be  done  over 
again.  Some  travel  too  slow  ;  others  travel  too  fast.  Yet 
one  cannot  but  admire  the  toughness  of  the  animals,  and 
the  surefootedness  with  which  they  pick  their  way  along 
the  sheer  mountain  sides,  or  among  boulders  and  over 
fallen  logs. 

As  our  way  was  so  rough,  we  found  that  we  had  to  halt 
at  least  once  every  hour  to  fix  the  packs.  Moreover,  we  at 
the  head  of  the  column  were  continually  being  appealed  to 
for  help  by  the  unfortunates  in  the  rear.  First  it  would 
be  "  that  white-eyed  cayuse  ;  one  side  of  its  pack 's  down  !  " 
then  we  would  be  notified  that  the  saddle-blanket  of  the 
"lop-eared  Indian  buckskin"  had  slipped  back;  then  a 
shout  "  Look  out  for  the  pinto  ! "  would  be  followed  by 
that  pleasing  beast's  appearance,  bucking  and  squealing, 
smashing  dead  timber,  and  scattering  its  load  to  the  four 
winds.  It  was  no  easy  task  to  get  the  horses  across  some 
of  the  boggy  places  without  miring ;  or  to  force  them 
through  the  denser  portions  of  the  forest,  where  there  was 
much  down  timber.  Riding  with  a  pack-train,  day  in  and 
day  out,  becomes  both  monotonous  and  irritating,  unless 
one  is  upheld  by  the  hope  of  a  game-country  ahead,  or  by 
the  delight  of  exploration  of  the  unknown.  Yet  when 


1 82  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

buoyed  by  such  a  hope,  there  is  pleasure  in  taking  a  train 
across  so  beautiful  and  wild  a  country  as  that  which  lay  on 
the  threshold  of  our  hunting  grounds  in  the  Shoshones. 
We  went  over  mountain  passes,  with  ranges  of  scalped 
peaks  on  either  hand  ;  we  skirted  the  edges  of  lovely  lakes, 
and  of  streams  with  boulder-strewn  beds  ;  we  plunged  into 
depths  of  sombre  woodland,  broken  by  wet  prairies.  It 
was  a  picturesque  sight  to  see  the  loaded  pack-train  string- 
ing across  one  of  these  high  mountain  meadows,  the  motley 
colored  line  of  ponies  winding  round  the  marshy  spots 
through  the  bright  green  grass,  while  beyond  rose  the  dark 
line  of  frowning  forest,  with  lofty  peaks  towering  in  the 
background.  Some  of  the  meadows  were  beautiful  with 
many  flowers — goldenrod,  purple  aster,  bluebells,  white 
immortelles,  and  here  and  there  masses  of  blood-red  Indian 
pinks.  In  the  park-country,  on  the  edges  of  the  evergreen 
forest,  were  groves  of  delicate  quaking-aspen,  the  trees 
often  growing  to  quite  a  height ;  their  tremulous  leaves 
were  already  changing  to  bright  green  and  yellow,  occa- 
sionally with  a  reddish  blush.  In  the  Rocky  Mountains 
the  aspens  are  almost  the  only  deciduous  trees,  their  foliage 
offering  a  pleasant  relief  to  the  eye  after  the  monotony 
of  the  unending  pine  and  spruce  woods,  which  afford  so 
striking  a  contrast  to  the  hardwood  forest  east  of  the 
Mississippi. 

For  two  days  our  journey  was  uneventful,  save  that  we 
came  on  the  camp  of  a  squawman — one  Beaver  Dick,  an 
old  mountain  hunter,  living  in  a  skin  tepee,  where  dwelt 
his  comely  Indian  wife  and  half-breed  children.  He  had 
quite  a  herd  of  horses,  many  of  them  mares  and  colts  ; 


An  Elk- Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     183 

they  had  evidently  been  well  treated,  and  came  up  to  us 
fearlessly. 

The  morning  of  the  third  day  of  our  journey  was  gray 
and  lowering.  Gusts  of  rain  blew  in  my  face  as  I  rode  at 
the  head  of  the  train.  It  still  lacked  an  hour  of  noon,  as 
we  were  plodding  up  a  valley  beside  a  rapid  brook  running 
through  narrow  willow-flats,  the  dark  forest  crowding  down 
on  either  hand  from  the  low  foot-hills  of  the  mountains. 
Suddenly  the  call  of  a  bull  elk  came  echoing  down  through 
the  wet  woodland  on  our  right,  beyond  the  brook,  seem- 
ingly less  than  half  a  mile  off ;  and  was  answered  by  a  faint, 
far-off  call  from  a  rival  on  the  mountain  beyond.  Instantly 
halting  the  train,  Woody  and  I  slipped  off  our  horses, 
crossed  the  brook,  and  started  to  still-hunt  the  first  bull. 

In  this  place  the  forest  was  composed  of  the  western 
tamarack ;  the  large,  tall  trees  stood  well  apart,  and  there 
was  much  down  timber,  but  the  ground  was  covered  with 
deep  wet  moss,  over  which  we  trod  silently.  The  elk  was 
travelling  up-wind,  but  slowly,  stopping  continually  to  paw 
the  ground  and  thresh  the  bushes  with  his  antlers.  He 
was  very  noisy,  challenging  every  minute  or  two,  being 
doubtless  much  excited  by  the  neighborhood  of  his  rival 
on  the  mountain.  We  followed,  Woody  leading,  guided 
by  the  incessant  calling. 

It  was  very  exciting  as  we  crept  toward  the  great  bull, 
and  the  challenge  sounded  nearer  and  nearer.  While  we 
were  still  at  some  distance  the  pealing  notes  were  like  those 
of  a  bugle,  delivered  in  two  bars,  first  rising,  then  abruptly 
falling ;  as  we  drew  nearer  they  took  on  a  harsh  squealing 
sound.  Each  call  made  our  veins  thrill ;  it  sounded  like 


1 84  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

the  cry  of  some  huge  beast  of  prey.  At  last  we  heard  the 
roar  of  the  challenge  not  eighty  yards  off.  Stealing  for- 
ward three  or  four  yards,  I  saw  the  tips  of  the  horns  through 
a  mass  of  dead  timber  and  young  growth,  and  I  slipped  to 
one  side  to  get  a  clean  shot.  Seeing  us,  but  not  making 
out  what  we  were,  and  full  of  fierce  and  insolent  excite- 
ment, the  wapiti  bull  stepped  boldly  toward  us  with  a  stately 
swinging  gait.  Then  he  stood  motionless,  facing  us,  barely 
fifty  yards  away,  his  handsome  twelve-tined  antlers  tossed 
aloft,  as  he  held  his  head  with  the  lordly  grace  of  his  kind. 
I  fired  into  his  chest,  and  as  he  turned  I  raced  forward  and 
shot  him  in  the  flank  ;  but  the  second  bullet  was  not  needed, 
for  the  first  wound  was  mortal,  and  he  fell  before  going 
fifty  yards. 

The  dead  elk  lay  among  the  young  evergreens.  The 
huge,  shapely  body  was  set  on  legs  that  were  as  strong 
as  steel  rods,  and  yet  slender,  clean,  and  smooth  ;  they  were 
in  color  a  beautiful  dark  brown,  contrasting  well  with  the 
yellowish  of  the  body.  The  neck  and  throat  were  garnished 
with  a  mane  of  long  hair  ;  the  symmetry  of  the  great  horns 
set  off  the  fine,  delicate  lines  of  the  noble  head.  He  had 
been  wallowing,  as  elk  are  fond  of  doing,  and  the  dried 
mud  clung  in  patches  to  his  flank ;  a  stab  in  the  haunch 
showed  that  he  had  been  overcome  in  battle  by  some 
master  bull  who  had  turned  him  out  of  the  herd. 

We  cut  off  the  head,  and  bore  it  down  to  the  train. 
The  horses  crowded  together,  snorting,  with  their  ears 
pricked  forward,  as  they  smelt  the  blood.  We  also  took 
the  loins  with  us,  as  we  were  out  of  meat,  though  bull  elk 
in  the  rutting  season  is  not  very  good.  The  rain  had 


An  Elk-Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     185 

changed  to  a  steady  downpour  when  we  again  got  under 
way.  Two  or  three  miles  farther  we  pitched  camp,  in  a 
clump  of  pines  on  a  hillock  in  the  bottom  of  the  valley, 
starting  hot  fires  of  pitchy  stumps  before  the  tents,  to  dry 
our  wet  things. 

Next  day  opened  with  fog  and  cold  rain.  The  drenched 
pack-animals,  when  driven  into  camp,  stood  mopingly,  with 
drooping  heads  and  arched  backs ;  they  groaned  and 
grunted  as  the  loads  were  placed  on  their  backs  and  the 
cinches  tightened,  the  packers  bracing  one  foot  against  the 
pack  to  get  a  purchase  as  they  hauled  in  on  the  lash-rope. 
A  stormy  morning  is  a  trial  to  temper ;  the  packs  are  wet 
and  heavy,  and  the  cold  makes  the  work  even  more  than 
usually  hard  on  the  hands.  By  ten  we  broke  camp.  It 
needs  between  two  and  three  hours  to  break  camp  and  get 
such  a  train  properly  packed ;  once  started,  our  day's 
journey  was  six  to  eight  hours,  making  no  halt.  We  started 
up  a  steep,  pine-clad  mountain  side,  broken  by  cliffs.  My 
hunting-shoes,  though  comfortable,  were  old  and  thin,  and 
let  the  water  through  like  a  sieve.  On  the  top  of  the  first 
plateau,  where  black  spruce  groves  were  strewn  across  the 
grassy  surface,  we  saw  a  band  of  elk,  cows  and  calves,  trot- 
ting off  through  the  rain.  Then  we  plunged  down  into  a 
deep  valley,  and,  crossing  it,  a  hard  climb  took  us  to  the 
top  of  a  great  bare  table-land,  bleak  and  wind-swept.  We 
passed  little  alpine  lakes,  fringed  with  scattering  "warf 
evergreens.  Snow  lay  in  drifts  on  the  north  sides  of  the 
gullies  ;  a  cutting  wind  blew  the  icy  rain  in  our  faces. 
For  two  or  three  hours  we  travelled  toward  the  farther 
edge  of  the  table-land.  In  one  place  a  spike  bull  elk 


1 86  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

stood  half  a  mile  off,  in  the  open  ;  he  travelled  to  and  fro, 
watching  us. 

As  we  neared  the  edge  the  storm  lulled,  and  pale, 
watery  sunshine  gleamed  through  the  rifts  in  the  low- 
scudding  clouds.  At  last  our  horses  stood  on  the  brink 
of  a  bold  cliff.  Deep  down  beneath  our  feet  lay  the  wild 
and  lonely  valley  of  Two-Ocean  Pass,  walled  in  on  either 
hand  by  rugged  mountain  chains,  their  flanks  scarred  and 
gashed  by  precipice  and  chasm.  Beyond,  in  a  wilderness 
of  jagged  and  barren  peaks,  stretched  the  Shoshones.  At 
the  middle  point  of  the  pass,  two  streams  welled  down 
from  either  side.  At  first  each  flowed  in  but  one  bed,  but 
soon  divided  into  two  ;  each  of  the  twin  branches  then 
joined  the  like  branch  of  the  brook  opposite,  and  swept  one 
to  the  east  and  one  to  the  west,  on  their  long  journey  to 
the  two  great  oceans.  They  ran  as  rapid  brooks,  through 
wet  meadows  and  willow-flats,  the  eastern  to  the  Yellow- 
stone, the  western  to  the  Snake.  The  dark  pine  forests 
swept  down  from  the  flanks  and  lower  ridges  of  the  moun- 
tains to  the  edges  of  the  marshy  valley.  Above  them  jutted 
gray  rock  peaks,snow-drifts  lying  in  the  rents  that  seamed 
their  northern  faces.  Far  below  us,  from  a  great  basin  at 
the  foot  of  the  cliff,  filled  with  the  pine  forest,  rose  the 
musical  challenge  of  a  bull  elk  ;  and  we  saw  a  band  of  cows 
and  calves  looking  like  mice  as  they  ran  among  the  trees. 

'*  was  getting  late,  and  after  some  search  we  failed  to 
find  any  trail  leading  down  ;  so  at  last  we  plunged  over 
the  brink  at  a  venture.  It  was  very  rough  scrambling, 
dropping  from  bench  to  bench,  and  in  places  it  was  not 
only  difficult  but  dangerous  for  the  loaded  pack-animals. 


An  Elk-Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     187 

Here  and  there  we  were  helped  by  well-beaten  elk-trails, 
which  we  could  follow  for  several  hundred  yards  at  a  time. 
On  one  narrow  pine-clad  ledge,  we  met  a  spike  bull  face 
to  face ;  and  in  scrambling  down  a  very  steep,  bare,  rock- 
strewn  shoulder  the  loose  stones  started  by  the  horses' 
hoofs,  bounding  in  great  leaps  to  the  forest  below,  dis- 
lodged two  cows. 

As  evening  fell,  we  reached  the  bottom,  and  pitched 
camp  in  a  beautiful  point  of  open  pine  forest,  thrust  out 
into  the  meadow.  There  was  good  shelter,  and  plenty 
of  wood,  water,  and  grass ;  we  built  a  huge  fire  and  put 
up  our  tents,  scattering  them  in  likely  places  among  the 
pines,  which  grew  far  apart  and  without  undergrowth. 
We  dried  our  steaming  clothes,  and  ate  a  hearty  supper 
of  elk-meat ;  then  we  turned  into  our  beds,  warm  and 
dry,  and  slept  soundly  under  the  canvas,  while  all  night 
long  the  storm  roared  without  Next  morning  it  still 
stormed  fitfully ;  the  high  peaks  and  ridges  round  about 
were  all  capped  with  snow.  Woody  and  I  started  on  foot 
for  an  all-day  tramp  ;  the  amount  of  game  seen  the  day 
before  showed  that  we  were  in  a  good  elk-country,  where 
the  elk  had  been  so  little  disturbed  that  they  were  travel- 
ling, feeding,  and  whistling  in  daylight.  For  three  hours 
we  walked  across  the  forest-clad  spurs  of  the  foot-hills. 
We  roused  a  small  band  of  elk  in  thick  timber ;  but  they 
rushed  off  before  we  saw  them,  with  much  smashing  of 
dead  branches.  Then  we  climbed  to  the  summit  of  the 
range.  The  wind  was  light  and  baffling ;  it  blew  from 
all  points,  veering  every  few  minutes.  There  were  oc- 
casional rain-squalls  ;  our  feet  and  legs  were  well  soaked ; 


1 88  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

and  we  became  chilled  through  whenever  we  sat  down  to 
listen.  We  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  big  bull  feeding  up-hill, 
and  followed  him  ;  it  needed  smart  running  to  overtake 
him,  for  an  elk,  even  while  feeding,  has  a  ground-covering 
gait.  Finally  we  got  within  a  hundred  and  twenty-five 
yards,  but  in  very  thick  timber,  and  all  I  could  see  plainly 
was  the  hip  and  the  after-part  of  the  flank.  I  waited  for 
a  chance  at  the  shoulder,  but  the  bull  got  my  wind  and 
was  off  before  I  could  pull  trigger.  It  was  just  one  of 
those  occasions  when  there  are  two  courses  to  pursue, 
neither  very  good,  and  when  one  is  apt  to  regret  which- 
ever decision  is  made. 

At  noon  we  came  to  the  edge  of  a  deep  and  wide 
gorge,  and  sat  down  shivering  to  await  what  might  turn 
up,  our  fingers  numb,  and  our  wet  feet  icy.  Suddenly  the 
love-challenge  of  an  elk  came  pealing  across  the  gorge, 
through  the  fine,  cold  rain,  from  the  heart  of  the  forest 
opposite.  An  hour's  stiff  climb,  down  and  up,  brought 
us  nearly  to  him  ;  but  the  wind  forced  us  to  advance  from 
below  through  a  series  of  open  glades.  He  was  lying  on 
a  point  of  the  cliff-shoulder,  surrounded  by  his  cows  ;  and 
he  saw  us  and  made  off.  An  hour  afterward,  as  we  were 
trudging  up  a  steep  hill-side  dotted  with  groves  of  fir  and 
spruce,  a  young  bull  of  ten  points,  roused  from  his  day- 
bed  by  our  approach,  galloped  across  us  some  sixty  yards 
off.  We  were  in  need  of  better  venison  than  can  be  fur- 
nished by  an  old  rutting  bull ;  so  I  instantly  took  a  shot 
at  the  fat  and  tender  young  ten-pointer.  I  aimed  well 
ahead  and  pulled  trigger  just  as  he  came  to  a  small 
gully  ;  and  he  fell  into  it  in  a  heap  with  a  resounding 


An  Elk-Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     189 

crash.  This  was  on  the  birthday  of  my  eldest  small  son ; 
so  I  took  him  home  the  horns,  "for  his  very  own."  On: 
the  way  back  that  afternoon  I  shot  off  the  heads  of  two 
blue  grouse,  as  they  perched  in  the  pines. 

That  evening  the  storm  broke,  and  the  weather  be- 
came clear  and  very  cold,  so  that  the  snow  made  the 
frosty  mountains  gleam  like  silver.  The  moon  was  full, 
and  in  the  flood  of  light  the  wild  scenery  round  our  camp 
was  very  beautiful.  As  always  where  we  camped  for  sev- 
eral days,  we  had  fixed  long  tables  and  settles,  and  were 
most  comfortable ;  and  when  we  came  in  at  nightfall,  or 
sometimes  long  afterward,  cold,  tired,  and  hungry,  it  was 
sheer  physical  delight  to  get  warm  before  the  roaring  fire 
of  pitchy  stumps,  and  then  to  feast  ravenously  on  bread 
and  beans,  on  stewed  or  roasted  elk  venison,  on  grouse 
and  sometimes  trout,  and  flapjacks  with  maple  syrup. 

Next  morning  dawned  clear  and  cold,  the  sky  a  glori- 
ous blue.  Woody  and  I  started  to  hunt  over  the  great 
table-land,  and  led  our  stout  horses  up  the  mountain-side, 
by  elk-trails  so  bad  that  they  had  to  climb  like  goats.  All 
these  elk-trails  have  one  striking  peculiarity.  They  lead 
through  thick  timber,  but  every  now  and  then  send  off 
short,  well-worn  branches  to  some  cliff-edge  or  jutting 
crag,  commanding  a  view  far  and  wide  over  the  country 
beneath.  Elk  Jove  to  stand  on  these  lookout  points,  and 
scan  the  valleys  and  mountains  round  about. 

Blue  grouse  rose  from  beside  our  path  ;  Clarke's  crows 
flew  past  us,  with  a  hollow,  flapping  sound,  or  lit  in  the 
pine-tops,  calling  and  flirting  their  tails  ;  the  gray-clad 
whisky-jacks,  with  multitudinous  cries,  hopped  and  flut- 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

tered  near  us.  Snow-shoe  rabbits  scuttled  away,  the 
big  furry  feet  which  give  them  their  name  already  turn- 
ing white.  At  last  we  came  out  on  the  great  plateau, 
seamed  with  deep,  narrow  ravines.  Reaches  of  pasture 
alternated  with  groves  and  open  forests  of  varying  size. 
Almost  immediately  we  heard  the  bugle  of  a  bull  elk,  and 
saw  a  big  band  of  cows  and  calves  on  the  other  side  of  a 
valley.  There  were  three  bulls  with  them,  one  very  large, 
and  we  tried  to  creep  up  on  them  ;  but  the  wind  was  baf- 
fling and  spoiled  our  stalk.  So  we  returned  to  our  horses, 
mounted  them,  and  rode  a  mile  farther,  toward  a  large 
open  wood  on  a  hill-side.  When  within  two  hundred 
yards  we  heard  directly  ahead  the  bugle  of  a  bull,  and 
pulled  up  short.  In  a  moment  I  saw  him  walking  through 
an  open  glade ;  he  had  not  seen  us.  The  slight  breeze 
brought  us  down  his  scent.  Elk  have  a  strong  character- 
istic smell ;  it  is  usually  sweet,  like  that  of  a  herd  of  Al- 
derney  cows  ;  but  in  old  bulls,  while  rutting,  it  is  rank, 
pungent,  and  lasting.  We  stood  motionless  till  the  bull 
was  out  of  sight,  then  stole  to  the  wood,  tied  our  horses, 
and  trotted  after  him.  He  was  travelling  fast,  occasion- 
ally calling ;  whereupon  others  in  the  neighborhood  would 
answer.  Evidently  he  had  been  driven  out  of  some  herd 
by  the  master  bull. 

He  went  faster  than  we  did,  and  while  we  were  vainly 
trying  to  overtake  him  we  heard  another  very  loud  and 
sonorous  challenge  to  our  left.  It  came  from  a  ridge- 
crest  at  the  edge  of  the  woods,  among  some  scattered 
clumps  of  the  northern  nut-pine  or  pinyon — a  queer  coni- 
fer, growing  very  high  on  the  mountains,  its  multiforked 


An  Elk-Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass. 

trunk  and  wide-spreading  branches  giving  it  the  rounded 
top,  and,  at  a  distance,  the  general  look  of  an  oak  rather 
than  a  pine.  We  at  once  walked  toward  the  ridge,  up- 
wind. In  a  minute  or  two,  to  our  chagrin,  we  stumbled 
on  an  outlying  spike  bull,  evidently  kept  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  herd  by  the  master  bull.  I  thought  he  would  alarm 
all  the  rest ;  but,  as  we  stood  motionless,  he  could  not  see 
clearly  what  we  were.  He  stood,  ran,  stood  again,  gazed 
at  us,  and  trotted  slowly  off.  We  hurried  forward  as  fast 
as  we  dared,  and  with  too  little  care ;  for  we  suddenly 
came  in  view  of  two  cows.  As  they  raised  their  heads  to 
look,  Woody  squatted  down  where  he  was,  to  keep  their 
attention  fixed,  while  I  cautiously  tried  to  slip  off  to  one 
side  unobserved.  Favored  by  the  neutral  tint  of  my 
buckskin  hunting-shirt,  with  which  my  shoes,  leggins,  and 
soft  hat  matched,  I  succeeded.  As  soon  as  I  was  out  of 
sight  I  ran  hard  and  came  up  to  a  hillock  crested  with 
pinyons,  behind  which  I  judged  I  should  find  the  herd. 
As  I  approached  the  crest,  their  strong,  sweet  smell  smote 
my  nostrils.  In  another  moment  I  saw  the  tips  of  a  pair 
of  mighty  antlers,  and  I  peered  over  the  crest  with  my 
rifle  at  the  ready.  Thirty  yards  off,  behind  a  clump  of 
pinyons,  stood  a  huge  bull,  his  head  thrown  back  as  he 
rubbed  his  shoulders  with  his  horns.  There  were  several 
cows  around  him,  and  one  saw  me  immediately,  and  took 
alarm.  I  fired  into  the  bull's  shoulder,  inflicting  a  mortal 
wound  ;  but  he  went  off,  and  I  raced  after  him  at  top 
speed,  firing  twice  into  his  flank  ;  then  he  stopped,  very 
sick,  and  I  broke  his  neck  with  a  fourth  bullet.  An  elk 
often  hesitates  in  the  first  moments  of  surprise  and  fright, 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

and  does  not  get  really  under  way  for  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  ;  but,  when  once  fairly  started,  he  may  go 
several  miles,  even  though  mortally  wounded ;  therefore, 
the  hunter,  after  his  first  shot,  should  run  forward  as  fast 
as  he  can,  and  shoot  again  and  again  until  the  quarry 
drops.  In  this  way  many  animals  that  would  otherwise 
be  lost  are  obtained,  especially  by  the  man  who  has  a 
repeating-rifle.  Nevertheless  the  hunter  should  beware 
of  being  led  astray  by  the  ease  with  which  he  can  fire  half 
a  dozen  shots  from  his  repeater  ;  and  he  should  aim  as 
carefully  with  each  shot  as  if  it  were  his  last.  No  possible 
rapidity  of  fire  can  atone  for  habitual  carelessness  of  aim 
with  the  first  shot. 

The  elk  I  thus  slew  was  a  giant.  His  body  was  the  size 
of  a  steer's,  and  his  antlers,  though  not  unusually  long, 
were  very  massive  and  heavy.  He  lay  in  a  glade,  on  the 
edge  of  a  great  cliff.  Standing  on  its  brink  we  over- 
looked a  most  beautiful  country,  the  home  of  all  homes 
for  the  elk  :  a  wilderness  of  mountains,  the  immense  ever- 
green forest  broken  by  park  and  glade,  by  meadow  and 
pasture,  by  bare  hill-side  and  barren  table-land.  Some 
five  miles  off  lay  the  sheet  of  water  known  to  the  old 
hunters  as  Spotted  Lake  ;  two  or  three  shallow,  sedgy 
places,  and  spots  of  geyser  formation,  made  pale  green 
blotches  on  its  wind-rippled  surface.  Far  to  the  south- 
west, in  daring  beauty  and  majesty,  the  grand  domes  and 
lofty  spires  of  the  Tetons  shot  into  the  blue  sky.  Too 
sheer  for  the  snow  to  rest  on  their  sides,  it  yet  filled  the 
rents  in  their  rough  flanks,  and  lay  deep  between  the 
towering  pinnacles  of  dark  rock. 


An  Elk-Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     193 

That  night,  as  on  more  than  one  night  afterward,  a 
bull  elk  came  down  whistling  to  within  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  of  the  tents,  and  tried  to  join  the  horse 
herd.  The  moon  had  set,  so  I  could  not  go  after  it.  Elk 
are  very  restless  and  active  throughout  the  night  in  the 
rutting  season  ;  but  where  undisturbed  they  feed  freely 
in  the  daytime,  resting  for  two  or  three  hours  about  noon. 

Next  day,  which  was  rainy,  we  spent  in  getting  in  the 
antlers  and  meat  of  the  two  dead  elk  ;  and  I  shot  off  the 
heads  of  two  or  three  blue  grouse  on  the  way  home. 
The  following  day  I  killed  another  bull  elk,  following  him 
by  the  strong,  not  unpleasing,  smell,  and  hitting  him 
twice  as  he  ran,  at  about  eighty  yards.  So  far  I  had  had 
good  luck,  killing  everything  I  had  shot  at ;  but  now  the 
luck  changed,  through  no  fault  of  mine,  as  far  as  I  could 
see,  and  Ferguson  had  his  innings.  The  day  after  I 
killed  this  bull  he  shot  two  fine  mountain  rams  ;  and 
during  the  remainder  of  our  hunt  he  killed  five  elk, — one 
cow,  for  meat,  and  four  good  bulls.  The  two  rams  were 
with  three  others,  all  old  and  with  fine  horns  ;  Ferguson 
peeped  over  a  lofty  precipice  and  saw  them  coming  up  it 
only  fifty  yards  below  him.  His  two  first  and  finest  bulls 
were  obtained  by  hard  running  and  good  shooting  ;  the 
herds  were  on  the  move  at  the  time,  and  only  his  speed 
of  foot  and  soundness  of  wind  enabled  him  to  get  near 
enough  for  a  shot.  One  herd  started  before  he  got  close, 
and  he  killed  the  master  bull  by  a  shot  right  through  the 
heart,  as  it  trotted  past,  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards  distant. 

As  for  me,  during  the  next  ten  days  I  killed  nothing 
save  one  cow  for  meat ;  and  this  though  I  hunted  hard 


194  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

every  day  from  morning  till  night,  no  matter  what  the 
weather.  It  was  stormy,  with  hail  and  snow  almost  every 
day ;  and  after  working  hard  from  dawn  until  nightfall, 
laboriously  climbing  the  slippery  mountain-sides,  walking 
through  the  wet  woods,  and  struggling  across  the  bare 
plateaus  and  cliff-shoulders,  while  the  violent  blasts  of 
wind  drove  the  frozen  rain  in  our  faces,  we  would  come 
in  after  dusk  wet  through  and  chilled  to  the  marrow. 
Even  when  it  rained  in  the  valleys  it  snowed  on  the 
mountain-tops,  and  there  was  no  use  trying  to  keep  our 
leet  dry.  I  got  three  shots  at  bull  elk,  two  being  very 
hurried  snap-shots  at  animals  running  in  thick  timber,  the 
other  a  running-shot  in  the  open,  at  over  two  hundred 
yards ;  and  I  missed  all  three.  On  most  days  I  saw  no 
bull  worth  shooting ;  the  two  or  three  I  did  see  or  hear 
we  failed  to  stalk,  the  light,  shifty  wind  baffling  us,  or  else 
an  outlying  cow  which  we  had  not  seen  giving  the  alarm. 
There  were  many  blue  and  a  few  ruffed  grouse  in  the 
woods,  and  I  occasionally  shot  off  the  heads  of  a  couple 
on  my  way  homeward  in  the  evening.  In  racing  after 
one  elk,  I  leaped  across  a  gully  and  so  bruised  and  twisted 
my  heel  on  a  rock  that,  for  the  remainder  of  my  stay  in 
the  mountains,  I  had  to  walk  on  the  fore  part  of  that 
foot.  This  did  not  interfere  much  with  my  walking, 
however,  except  in  going  down-hill. 

Our  ill  success  was  in  part  due  to  sheer  bad  luck ;  but 
the  chief  element  therein  was  the  presence  of  a  great 
hunting-party  of  Shoshone  Indians.  Split  into  bands  of 
eight  or  ten  each,  they  scoured  the  whole  country  on 
their  tough,  sure-footed  ponies.  They  always  hunted  on 


An  Elk-Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     195 

horseback,  and  followed  the  elk  at  full  speed  wherever 
they  went.  Their  method  of  hunting  was  to  organize 
great  drives,  the  riders  strung  in  lines  far  apart  ;  they 
signalled  to  one  another  by  means  of  willow  whistles,  with 
which  they  also  imitated  the  calling  of  the  bull  elk,  thus 
tolling  the  animals  to  them,  or  making  them  betray  their 
whereabouts.  As  they  slew  whatever  they  could,  but  by 
preference  cows  and  calves,  and  as  they  were  very  perse- 
vering, but  also  very  excitable  and  generally  poor  shots, 
so  that  they  wasted  much  powder,  they  not  only  wrought 
havoc  among  the  elk,  but  also  scared  the  survivors  out  of 
all  the  country  over  which  they  hunted. 

Day  in  and  day  out  we  plodded  on.  In  a  hunting- 
trip  the  days  of  long  monotony  in  getting  to  the  ground, 
and  the  days  of  unrequited  toil  after  it  has  been  reached, 
always  far  outnumber  the  red-letter  days  of  success.  But 
it  is  just  these  times  of  failure  that  really  test  the  hunter. 
In  the  long  run,  common-sense  and  dogged  perseverance 
avail  him  more  than  any  other  qualities.  The  man  who  does 
not  give  up,  but  hunts  steadily  and  resolutely  through  the 
spells  of  bad  luck  until  the  luck  turns,  is  the  man  who 
wins  success  in  the  end. 

After  a  week  at  Two-Ocean  Pass,  we  gathered  our 
pack-animals  one  frosty  morning,  and  again  set  off  across 
the  mountains.  A  two-days'  jaunt  took  us  to  the  summit 
of  Wolverine  Pass,  near  Pinyon  Peak,  beside  a  little 
mountain  tarn ;  each  morning  we  found  its  surface 
skimmed  with  black  ice,  for  the  nights  were  cold.  After 
three  or  four  days,  we  shifted  camp  to  the  mouth  of 
Wolverine  Creek,  to  get  off  the  hunting  grounds  of  the 


i96  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Indians.  We  had  used  up  our  last  elk-meat  that  morn- 
ing,  and  when  we  were  within  a  couple  of  hours'  journey 
of  our  intended  halting-place,  Woody  and  I  struck  off  on 
foot  for  a  hunt.  Just  before  sunset  we  came  on  three  or 
four  elk  ;  a  spike  bull  stood  for  a  moment  behind  some 
thick  evergreens  a  hundred  yards  off.  Guessing  at  his 
shoulder,  I  fired,  and  he  fell  dead  after  running  a  few 
rods.  I  had  broken  the  luck,  after  ten  days  of  ill  success. 
Next  morning  Woody  and  I,  with  the  packer,  rode  to 
where  this  elk  lay.  We  loaded  the  meat  on  a  pack-horse, 
and  let  the  packer  take  both  the  loaded  animal  and  our 
own  saddle-horses  back  to  camp,  while  we  made  a  hunt  on 
foot.  We  went  up  the  steep,  forest-clad  mountain-side,  and 
before  we  had  walked  an  hour  heard  two  elk  whistling 
ahead  of  us.  The  woods  were  open,  and  quite  free  from 
undergrowth,  and  we  were  able  to  advance  noiselessly; 
there  was  no  wind,  for  the  weather  was  still,  clear,  and 
cold.  Both  of  the  elk  were  evidently  very  much  excited, 
answering  each  other  continually  ;  they  had  probably  been 
master  bulls,  but  had  become  so  exhausted  that  their  rivals 
had  driven  them  from  the  herds,  forcing  them  to  remain 
in  seclusion  until  they  regained  their  lost  strength.  As 
we  crept  stealthily  forward,  the  calling  grew  louder  and 
louder,  until  we  could  hear  the  grunting  sounds  with 
which  the  challenge  of  the  nearest  ended.  He  was  in  a 
large  wallow,  which  was  also  a  lick.  When  we  were  still 
sixty  yards  off,  he  heard  us,  and  rushed  out,  but  wheeled 
and  stood  a  moment  to  gaze,  puzzled  by  my  buckskin 
suit.  I  fired  into  his  throat,  breaking  his  neck,  and  down 
he  went  in  a  heap.  Rushing  in  and  turning,  I  called  to 


An  Elk-Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     197 

Woody,  "  He's  a  twelve-pointer,  but  the  horns  are  small ! " 
As  I  spoke  I  heard  the  roar  of  the  challenge  of  the  other 
bull  not  two  hundred  yards  ahead,  as  if  in  defiant  answer 
to  my  shot. 

Running  quietly  forward,  I  speedily  caught  a  glimpse 
of  his  body.  He  was  behind  some  fir-trees  about  seventy 
yards  off,  and  I  could  not  see  which  way  he  was  standing, 
and  so  fired  into  the  patch  of  flank  which  was  visible,  aim- 
ing high,  to  break  the  back.  My  aim  was  true,  and  the 
huge  beast  crashed  down-hill  through  the  evergreens,  pulK 
ing  himself  on  his  fore  legs  for  fifteen  or  twenty  rods,  his 
hind  quarters  trailing.  Racing  forward,  I  broke  his  neck. 
His  antlers  were  the  finest  I  ever  got.  A  couple  of  whisky- 
jacks  appeared  at  the  first  crack  of  the  rifle  with  their 
customary  astonishing  familiarity  and  heedlessness  of  the 
hunter;  they  followed  the  wounded  bull  as  he  dragged 
his  great  carcass  down  the  hill,  and  pounced  with  ghoulish 
bloodthirstiness  on  the  gouts  of  blood  that  were  sprinkled 
over  the  green  herbage. 

These  two  bulls  lay  only  a  couple  of  hundred  yards 
apart,  on  a  broad  game-trail,  which  was  as  well  beaten 
as  a  good  bridle-path.  We  began  to  skin  out  the  heads  ; 
and  as  we  were  finishing  we  heard  another  bull  challenging 
far  up  the  mountain.  He  came  nearer  and  nearer,  and  as 
soon  as  we  had  ended  our  work  we  grasped  our  rifles  and 
trotted  toward  him  along  the  game-trail.  He  was  very 
noisy,  uttering  his  loud,  singing  challenge  every  minute 
or  two.  The  trail  was  so  broad  and  firm  that  we  walked 
in  perfect  silence.  After  going  only  five  or  six  hundred 
yards,  we  got  very  close  indeed,  and  stole  forward  on  tip- 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

toe,  listening  to  the  roaring  music.  The  sound  came  from 
a  steep,  narrow  ravine,  to  one  side  of  the  trail,  and  I  walked 
toward  it  with  my  rifle  at  the  ready.  A  slight  puff  gave 
the  elk  my  wind,  and  he  dashed  out  of  the  ravine  like  a 
deer;  but  he  was  only  thirty  yards  off,  and  my  bullet 
went  into  his  shoulder  as  he  passed  behind  a  clump  of 
young  spruce.  I  plunged  into  the  ravine,  scrambled  out 
of  it,  and  raced  after  him.  In  a  minute  I  saw  him  stand- 
ing with  drooping  head,  and  two  more  shots  finished  him. 
He  also  bore  fine  antlers.  It  was  a  great  piece  of  luck  to 
get  three  such  fine  bulls  at  the  cost  of  half  a  day's  light 
work  ;  but  we  had  fairly  earned  them,  having  worked  hard 
for  ten  days,  through  rain,  cold,  hunger,  and  fatigue,  to  no 
purpose.  That  evening  my  home-coming  to  camp,  with 
three  elk-tongues  and  a  brace  of  ruffed  grouse  hung  at  my 
belt,  was  most  happy. 

Next  day  it  snowed,  but  we  brought  a  pack-pony  to 
where  the  three  great  bulls  lay,  and  took  their  heads  to 
camp  ;  the  flesh  was  far  too  strong  to  be  worth  taking, 
for  it  was  just  the  height  of  the  rut. 

This  was  the  end  of  my  hunt ;  and  a  day  later  Hofer 
and  I,  with  two  pack-ponies,  made  a  rapid  push  for  the 
Upper  Geyser  Basin.  We  travelled  fast.  The  first  day 
was  gray  and  overcast,  a  cold  wind  blowing  strong  in  our 
faces.  Toward  evening  we  came  on  a  bull  elk  in  a  willow 
thicket ;  he  was  on  his  knees  in  a  hollow,  thrashing  and 
beating  the  willows  with  his  antlers.  At  dusk  we  halted 
and  went  into  camp,  by  some  small  pools  on  the  summit 
of  the  pass  north  of  Red  Mountain.  The  elk  were  calling 
all  around  us.  We  pitched  our  cozy  tent,  dragged  great 


HEAD  OF  ELK. 


SHOT  SEPTEMBER,   l8gi. 


An  Elk- Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     199 

stumps  for  the  fire,  cut  evergreen  boughs  for  our  beds, 
watered  the  horses,  tethered  them  to  improvised  picket- 
pins  in  a  grassy  glade,  and  then  set  about  getting  supper 
ready.  The  wind  had  gone  down,  and  snow  was  falling 
thick  in  large,  soft  flakes ;  we  were  evidently  at  the  be- 
ginning of  a  heavy  snowstorm.  All  night  we  slept  soundly 
in  our  snug  tent.  When  we  arose  at  dawn  there  was  a 
foot  and  a  half  of  snow  on  the  ground,  and  the  flakes  were 
falling  as  fast  as  ever.  There  is  no  more  tedious  work  than 
striking  camp  in  bad  weather ;  and  it  was  over  two  hours 
from  the  time  we  rose  to  the  time  we  started.  It  is  sheer 
misery  to  untangle  picket-lines  and  to  pack  animals  when 
the  ropes  are  frozen  ;  and  by  the  time  we  had  loaded 
the  two  shivering,  wincing  pack-ponies,  and  had  bridled 
and  saddled  our  own  riding-animals,  our  hands  and  feet 
were  numb  and  stiff  with  cold,  though  we  were  really 
hampered  by  our  warm  clothing.  My  horse  was  a  wild, 
nervous  roan,  and  as  I  swung  carelessly  into  the  saddle, 
he  suddenly  began  to  buck  before  I  got  my  right  leg  over, 
and  threw  me  off.  My  thumb  was  put  out  of  joint.  I 
pulled  it  in  again,  and  speedily  caught  my  horse  in  the 
dead  timber.  Then  I  treated  him  as  what  the  cowboys 
call  a  "  mean  horse,"  and  mounted  him  carefully,  so  as  not 
to  let  him  either  buck  or  go  over  backward.  However, 
his  preliminary  success  had  inspirited  him,  and  a  dozen 
times  that  day  he  began  to  buck,  usually  choosing  a  down 
grade,  where  the  snow  was  deep,  and  there  was  much 
fallen  timber. 

All  day  long  we  pushed  steadily  through  the  cold, 
blinding  snowstorm.      Neither  squirrels  nor  rabbits  were 


200          The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

abroad  ;  and  a  few  Clarke's  crows,  whisky-jacks,  and  chick- 
adees were  the  only  living  things  we  saw.  At  nightfall, 
chilled  through,  we  reached  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin. 
Here  I  met  a  party  of  railroad  surveyors  and  engineers, 
coming  in  from  their  summer's  field-work.  One  of  them 
lent  me  a  saddle-horse  and  a  pack-pony,  and  we  went  on 
together,  breaking  our  way  through  the  snow-choked 
roads  to  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  while  Hofer  took 
my  own  horses  back  to  Ferguson. 

I  have  described  this  hunt  at  length  because,  though 
I  enjoyed  it  particularly  on  account  of  the  comfort  in 
which  we  travelled  and  the  beauty  of  the  land,  yet,  in 
point  of  success  in  finding  and  killing  game,  in  value  of 
trophies  procured,  and  in  its  alternations  of  good  and  bad 
luck,  it  may  fairly  stand  as  the  type  of  a  dozen  such  hunts 
I  have  made.  Twice  I  have  been  much  more  successful ; 
the  difference  being  due  to  sheer  luck,  as  I  hunted  equally 
hard  in  all  three  instances.  Thus  on  this  trip  I  killed 
and  saw  nothing  but  elk ;  yet  the  other  members  of  the 
party  either  saw,  or  saw  fresh  signs  of,  not  only  blacktail 
deer,  but  sheep,  bear,  bison,  moose,  cougar,  and  wolf. 
Now  in  1889  I  hunted  over  almost  precisely  similar 
country,  only  farther  to  the  northwest,  on  the  boundary 
between  Idaho  and  Montana,  and,  with  the  exception  of 
sheep,  I  stumbled  on  all  the  animals  mentioned,  and 
white  goat  in  addition,  so  that  my  bag  of  twelve  head 
actually  included  eight  species — much  the  best  bag  I  ever 
made,  and  the  only  one  that  could  really  be  called  out  of 
the  common.  In  1884,  on  a  trip  to  the  Bighorn  Moun- 
tains, I  killed  three  bear,  six  elk  and  six  deer.  In  laying 


An  R Ik- Hunt  at  Two-Ocean  Pass.     201 

in  the  winter  stock  of  meat  for  my  ranch  I  often  far 
excelled  these  figures  as  far  as  mere  numbers  went ;  but 
on  no  other  regular  hunting  trip,  where  the  quality  and 
not  the  quantity  of  the  game  was  the  prime  consideration, 
have  I  ever  equalled  them ;  and  on  several  where-  I 
worked  hardest  I  hardly  averaged  a  head  a  week.  The 
occasional  days  or  weeks  of  phenomenal  luck,  are  more 
than  earned  by  the  many  others  where  no  luck  whatever 
follows  the  very  hardest  work.  Yet,  if  a  man  hunts  with 
steady  resolution  he  is  apt  to  strike  enough  lucky  days 
amply  to  repay  him. 

On  this  Shoshone  trip  I  fired  fifty-eight  shots.  In 
preference  to  using  the  knife  I  generally  break  the  neck 
of  an  elk  which  is  still  struggling ;  and  I  fire  at  one  as 
long  as  it  can  stand,  preferring  to  waste  a  few  extra 
bullets,  rather  than  see  an  occasional  head  of  game 
escape.  In  consequence  of  these  two  traits  the  nine  elk 
I  got  (two  running  at  sixty  and  eighty  yards,  the  others 
standing,  at  from  thirty  to  a  hundred)  cost  me  twenty- 
three  bullets ;  and  I  missed  three  shots — all  three,  it  is 
but  fair  to  say,  difficult  ones.  I  also  cut  off  the  heads  of 
seventeen  grouse,  with  twenty-two  shots  ;  and  killed  two 
ducks  with  ten  shots — fifty-eight  in  all.  On  the  Bighorn 
trip  I  used  a  hundred  and  two  cartridges.  On  no  other 
trip  did  I  use  fifty. 

To  me  still-hunting  elk  in  the  mountains,  when  they 
are  calling,  is  one  of  the  most  attractive  of  sports,  not 
only  because  of  the  size  and  stately  beauty  of  the  quarry 
and  the  grand  nature  of  the  trophy,  but  because  of  the 
magnificence  of  the  scenery,  and  the  stirring,  manly, 


202  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

exciting  nature  of  the  chase  itself.  It  yields  more  vigor- 
ous enjoyment  than  does  lurking  stealthily  through  the 
grand  but  gloomy  monotony  of  the  marshy  woodland 
where  dwells  the  moose.  The  climbing  among  the  steep 
forest-clad  and  glade-strewn  mountains  is  just  difficult 
enough  thoroughly  to  test  soundness  in  wind  and  limb, 
while  without  the  heart-breaking  fatigue  of  white  goat 
hunting.  The  actual  grapple  with  an  angry  grisly  is  of 
course  far  more  full  of  strong,  eager  pleasure ;  but  bear 
hunting  is  the  most  uncertain,  and  usually  the  least  pro- 
ductive, of  sports. 

As  regards  strenuous,  vigorous  work,  and  pleasurable 
excitement  the  chase  of  the  bighorn  alone  stands  higher. 
But  the  bighorn,  grand  beast  of  the  chase  though  he  be, 
is  surpassed  in  size,  both  of  body  and  of  horns,  by  certain 
of  the  giant  sheep  of  Central  Asia  ;  whereas  the  wapiti  is 
not  only  the  most  stately  and  beautiful  of  American  game 
— far  more  so  than  the  bison  and  moose,  his  only  rivals 
in  size — but  is  also  the  noblest  of  the  stag  kind  through- 
out the  world.  Whoever  kills  him  has  killed  the  chief  of 
his  race ;  for  he  stands  far  above  his  brethren  of  Asia  and 
Europe. 


CHAPTER    XL 

THE  MOOSE  ;  THE  BEAST  OF  THE  WOODLAND. 

THE  moose  is  the  giant  of  all  deer  ;  and  many  hun» 
ters  esteem  it  the  noblest  of  American  game.     Be- 
yond question  there  are  few  trophies  more  prized 
than  the  huge  shovel  horns  of  this  strange  dweller  in  the 
cold  northland  forests. 

I  shot  my  first  moose  after  making  several  fruitless 
hunting  trips  with  this  special  game  in  view.  The  season 
I  finally  succeeded  it  was  only  after  having  hunted  two 
or  three  weeks  in  vain,  among  the  Bitter  Root  Mountains, 
and  the  ranges  lying  southeast  of  them. 

I  began  about  the  first  of  September  by  making  a  trial 
with  my  old  hunting  friend  Willis.  We  speedily  found 
a  country  where  there  were  moose,  but  of  the  animals 
themselves  we  never  caught  a  glimpse.  We  tried  to  kill 
them  by  hunting  in  the  same  manner  that  we  hunted  elk ; 
that  is,  by  choosing  a  place  where  there  was  sign,  and 
going  carefully  through  it  against  or  across  the  wind. 
However,  this  plan  failed  ;  though  at  that  very  time  we 
succeeded  in  killing  elk  in  this  way,  devoting  one  or  two 
days  to  their  pursuit.  There  were  both  elk  and  moose 

203 


204  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

in  the  country,  but  they  were  usually  found  in  different 
kinds  of  ground,  though  often  close  alongside  one  another. 
The  former  went  in  herds,  the  cows,  calves,  and  yearlings 
by  themselves,  and  they  roamed  through  the  higher  and 
more  open  forests,  well  up  towards  timber  line.  The 
moose,  on  the  contrary,  were  found  singly  or  in  small  parties 
composed  at  the  outside  of  a  bull,  a  cow,  and  her  young  of 
two  years  ;  for  the  moose  is  practically  monogamous,  in 
strong  contrast  to  the  highly  polygamous  wapiti  and 
caribou. 

The  moose  did  not  seem  to  care  much  whether  they 
lived  among  the  summits  of  the  mountains  or  not,  so  long 
as  they  got  the  right  kind  of  country  ;  for  they  were  much 
more  local  in  their  distribution,  and  at  this  season  less 
given  to  wandering  than  their  kin  with  round  horns. 
What  they  wished  was  a  cool,  swampy  region  of  very 
dense  growth ;  in  the  main  chains  of  the  northern  Rock- 
ies even  the  valleys  are  high  enough  to  be  cold.  Of 
course  many  of  the  moose  lived  on  the  wooded  summits 
of  the  lower  ranges  ;  and  most  of  them  came  down  lower 
in  winter  than  in  summer,  following  about  a  fortnight 
after  the  elk  ;  but  if  in  a  large  tract  of  woods  the  cover 
was  dense  and  the  ground  marshy,  though  it  was  in  a  val- 
ley no  higher  than  the  herds  of  the  ranchmen  grazed,  or 
perchance  even  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  a  small 
frontier  hamlet,  then  it  might  be  chosen  by  some  old  bull 
who  wished  to  lie  in  seclusion  till  his  horns  were  grown, 
or  by  some  cow  with  a  calf  to  raise.  Before  settlers  came 
to  this  high  mountain  region  of  Western  Montana,  a 
moose  would  often  thus  live  in  an  isolated  marshy  tract 


The  Moose.  205 

surrounded  by  open  country.  They  grazed  throughout 
the  summer  on  marsh  plants,  notably  lily  stems,  and  nib- 
bled at  the  tops  of  the  very  tall  natural  hay  of  the  mead- 
ows. The  legs  of  the  beast  are  too  long  and  the  neck  too 
short  to  allow  it  to  graze  habitually  on  short  grass  ;  "yet 
in  the  early  spring  when  greedy  for  the  tender  blades  of 
young,  green  marsh  grass,  the  moose  will  often  shuffle 
down  on  its  knees  to  get  at  them,  and  it  will  occasionally 
perform  the  same  feat  to  get  a  mouthful  or  two  of  snow 
in  winter. 

The  moose  which  lived  in  isolated,  exposed  localities 
were  speedily  killed  or  driven  away  after  the  incoming  of 
settlers  ;  and  at  the  time  that  we  hunted  we  found  no  sign 
of  them  until  we  reached  the  region  of  continuous  forest 
Here,  in  a  fortnight's  hunting,  we  found  as  much  sign  as 
we  wished,  and  plenty  of  it  fresh  ;  but  the  animals  them- 
selves we  not  only  never  saw  but  we  never  so  much  as 
heard.  Often  after  hours  of  careful  still-hunting  or  cau- 
tious tracking,  we  found  the  footprints  deep  in  the  soft 
earth,  showing  where  our  quarry  had  winded  or  heard 
us,  and  had  noiselessly  slipped  away  from  the  danger.  It 
is  astonishing  how  quietly  a  moose  can  steal  through  the 
woods  if  it  wishes  :  and  it  has  what  is  to  the  hunter  a  very 
provoking  habit  of  making  a  half  or  three  quarters  circle 
before  lying  down,  and  then  crouching  with  its  head  so 
turned  that  it  can  surely  perceive  any  pursuer  who  may 
follow  its  trail.  We  tried  every  method  to  outwit  the 
beasts.  We  attempted  to  track  them  ;  we  beat  through 
likely  spots  ;  sometimes  we  merely  "sat  on  a  log"  and 
awaited  events,  by  a  drinking  hole,  meadow,  mud  wallow 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

or  other  such  place  (a  course  of  procedure  which  often 
works  well  in  still-hunting);  but  all  in  vain. 

Our  main  difficulty  lay  in  the  character  of  the  woods 
which  the  moose  haunted.  They  were  choked  and  tangled 
to  the  last  degree,  consisting  of  a  mass  of  thick-growing 
conifers,  with  dead  timber  strewn  in  every  direction,  and 
young  growth  filling  the  spaces  between  the  trunks.  We 
could  not  see  twenty  yards  ahead  of  us,  and  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  walk  without  making  a  noise.  Elk  were 
occasionally  found  in  these  same  places ;  but  usually  they 
frequented  more  open  timber,  where  the  hunting  was 
beyond  comparison  easier.  Perhaps  more  experienced 
hunters  would  have  killed  their  game  ;  though  in  such 
cover  the  best  tracker  and  still-hunter  alive  cannot  always 
reckon  on  success  with  really  wary  animals.  But,  be  this 
as  it  may,  we,  at  any  rate,  were  completely  baffled,  and  I 
began  to  think  that  this  moose-hunt,  like  all  my  former 
ones,  was  doomed  to  end  in  failure. 

However,  a  few  days  later  I  met  a  crabbed  old  trap- 
per named  Hank  Griffin,  who  was  going  after  beaver  in  the 
mountains,  and  who  told  me  that  if  I  would  come  with 
him  he  would  show  me  moose.  I  jumped  at  the  chance, 
and  he  proved  as  good  as  his  word  ;  though  for  the  first 
two  trials  my  ill  luck  did  not  change. 

At  the  time  that  it  finally  did  change  we  had  at  last 
reached  a  place  where  the  moose  were  on  favorable  ground. 
A  high,  marshy  valley  stretched  for  several  miles  between 
two  rows  of  stony  mountains,  clad  with  a  forest  of  rather 
small  fir-trees.  This  valley  was  covered  with  reeds,  alders, 
and  rank  grass,  and  studded  with  little  willow-bordered 


The  Moose.  207 

ponds  and  island-like  clumps  of  spruce  and  graceful 
tamaracks. 

Having  surveyed  the  ground  and  found  moose  sign  the 
preceding  afternoon,  we  were  up  betimes  in  the  cool 
morning  to  begin  our  hunt.  Before  sunrise  we  were 
posted  on  a  rocky  spur  of  the  foot-hills,  behind  a  mask  of 
evergreens  ;  ourselves  unseen  we  overlooked  all  the  valley, 
and  we  knew  we  could  see  any  animal  which  might  be 
either  feeding  away  from  cover  or  on  its  journey  home- 
ward from  its  feeding  ground  to  its  day-bed. 

As  it  grew  lighter  we  scanned  the  valley  with  increas- 
ing care  and  eagerness.  The  sun  rose  behind  us ;  and 
almost  as  soon  as  it  was  up  we  made  out  some  large  beast 
moving  among  the  dwarf  willows  beside  a  little  lake  half 
a  mile  in  our  front.  In  a  few  minutes  the  thing  walked 
out  where  the  bushes  were  thinner,  and  we  saw  that  it  was 
a  young  bull  moose  browsing  on  the  willow  tops.  He  had 
evidently  nearly  finished  his  breakfast,  and  he  stood  idly 
for  some  moments,  now  and  then  lazily  cropping  a  mouth- 
ful of  twig  tips.  Then  he  walked  off  with  great  strides  in 
a  straight  line  across  the  marsh,  splashing  among  the  wet 
water-plants,  and  ploughing  through  boggy  spaces  with  the 
indifference  begotten  of  vast  strength  and  legs  longer  than 
those  of  any  other  animal  on  this  continent.  At  times  he 
entered  beds  of  reeds  which  hid  him  from  view,  though 
their  surging  and  bending  showed  the  wake  of  his  passage ; 
at  other  times  he  walked  through  meadows  of  tall  grass, 
the  withered  yellow  stalks  rising  to  his  flanks,  while  his 
body  loomed  above  them,  glistening  black  and  wet  in  the 
level  sunbeams.  Once  lie  stopped  for  a  few  moments  on 


208  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

a  rise  of  dry  ground,  seemingly  to  enjoy  the  heat  of  the 
young  sun  ;  he  stood  motionless,  save  that  his  ears  were 
continually  pricked,  and  his  head  sometimes  slightly 
turned,  showing  that  even  in  this  remote  land  he  was  on 
the  alert.  Once,  with  a  somewhat  awkward  motion,  he 
reached  his  hind  leg  forward  to  scratch  his  neck.  Then 
he  walked  forward  again  into  the  marsh ;  where  the 
water  was  quite  deep  he  broke  into  the  long,  stretching, 
springy  trot,  which  forms  the  characteristic  gait  of  his 
kind,  churning  the  marsh  water  into  foam.  He  held  his 
head  straight  forwards,  the  antlers  resting  on  his  shoulders. 

After  awhile  he  reached  a  spruce  island,  through  which 
he  walked  to  and  fro  ;  but  evidently  could  find  therein  no 
resting-place  quite  to  his  mind,  for  he  soon  left  and  went 
on  to  another.  Here  after  a  little  wandering  he  chose  a 
point  where  there  was  some  thick  young  growth,  which 
hid  him  from  view  when  he  lay  down,  though  not  when  he 
stood.  After  some  turning  he  settled  himself  in  his  bed 
just  as  a  steer  would. 

He  could  not  have  chosen  a  spot  better  suited  for  us. 
He  was  nearly  at  the  edge  of  the  morass,  the  open  space 
between  the  spruce  clump  where  he  was  lying  and  the 
rocky  foot-hills  being  comparatively  dry  and  not  much 
over  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  broad ;  while  some  sixty 
yards  from  it,  and  between  it  and  the  hills,  was  a  little 
hummock,  tufted  with  firs,  so  as  to  afford  us  just  the 
cover  we  needed.  Keeping  back  from  the  edge  of  the 
morass  we  were  able  to  walk  upright  through  the  for- 
est, until  we  got  the  point  where  he  was  lying  in  a 


The  Moose.  209 

line  with  this  little  hummock.  We  then  dropped  on  our 
hands  and  knees,  and  crept  over  the  soft,  wet  sward,  where 
there  was  nothing  to  make  a  noise.  Wherever  the  ground 
rose  at  all  we  crawled  flat  on  our  bellies.  The  air  was  still, 
for  it  was  a  very  calm  morning. 

At  last  we  reached  the  hummock,  and  I  got  into  po- 
sition for  a  shot,  taking  a  final  look  at  my  faithful  45-90 
Winchester  to  see  that  all  was  in  order.  Peering  cau- 
tiously through  the  shielding  evergreens,  I  at  first  could 
not  make  out  where  the  moose  was  lying,  until  my  eye 
was  caught  by  the  motion  of  his  big  ears,  as  he  occa- 
sionally flapped  them  lazily  forward.  Even  then  I  could 
not  see  his  outline  ;  but  I  knew  where  he  was,  and  having 
pushed  my  rifle  forward  on  the  moss,  I  snapped  a  dry  twig 
to  make  him  rise.  My  veins  were  thrilling  and  my  heart 
beating  with  that  eager,  fierce  excitement,  known  only  to 
the  hunter  of  big  game,  and  forming  one  of  the  keenest 
and  strongest  of  the  many  pleasures  which  with  him  go  to 
make  up  "the  wild  joy  of  living." 

As  the  sound  of  the  snapping  twig  smote  his  ears  the 
moose  rose  nimbly  to  his  feet,  with  a  lightness  on  which 
one  would  not  have  reckoned  in  a  beast  so  heavy  of  body. 
He  stood  broadside  to  me  for  a  moment,  his  ungainly 
head  slightly  turned,  while  his  ears  twitched  and  his 
nostrils  snuffed  the  air.  Drawing  a  fine  bead  against 
his  black  hide,  behind  his  shoulder  and  two  thirds  of 
his  body's  depth  below  his  shaggy  withers,  I  pressed 
the  trigger.  He  neither  flinched  nor  reeled,  but  started 
with  his  regular  ground-covering  trot  through  the  spruces ; 


210  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

yet  I  knew  he  was  mine,  for  the  light  blood  sprang  from 
both  of  his  nostrils,  and  he  fell  dying  on  his  side  before  he 
had  gone  thirty  rods. 

Later  in  the  fall  I  was  again  hunting  among  the  lofty 
ranges  which  continue  towards  the  southeast  the  chain 
of  the  Bitter  Root,  between  Idaho  and  Montana.  There 
were  but  two  of  us,  and  we  were  travelling  very  light, 
each  having  but  one  pack-pony  and  the  saddle  animal  he 
bestrode.  We  were  high  among  the  mountains,  and  fol- 
lowed no  regular  trail.  Hence  our  course  was  often  one 
of  extreme  difficulty.  Occasionally,  we  took  our  animals 
through  the  forest  near  timber  line,  where  the  slopes  were 
not  too  steep  ;  again  we  threaded  our  way  through  a  line 
of  glades,  or  skirted  the  foot-hills,  in  an  open,  park  coun- 
try ;  and  now  and  then  we  had  to  cross  stretches  of  tan- 
gled mountain  forest,  making  but  a  few  miles  a  day,  at  the 
cost  of  incredible  toil,  and  accomplishing  even  this  solely 
by  virtue  of  the  wonderful  docility  and  sure-footedness  of 
the  ponies,  and  of  my  companion's  skill  with  the  axe  and 
thorough  knowledge  of  woodcraft. 

Late  one  cold  afternoon  we  came  out  in  a  high  alpine 
valley  in  which  there  was  no  sign  of  any  man's  having  ever 
been  before  us.  Down  its  middle  ran  a  clear  brook.  On 
each  side  was  a  belt  of  thick  spruce  forest,  covering  the 
lower  flanks  of  the  mountains.  The  trees  came  down  in 
points  and  isolated  clumps  to  the  brook,  the  banks  of  which 
were  thus  bordered  with  open  glades,  rendering  the  travel- 
ling easy  and  rapid. 

Soon  after  starting  up  this  valley  we  entered  a  beaver 
meadow  of  considerable  size,  it  was  covered  with  lush, 


The  Moose.  211 

rank  grass,  and  the  stream  wound  through  it  rather  slug- 
gishly in  long  curves,  which  were  fringed  by  a  thick  growth 
of  dwarfed  willows.  In  one  or  two  places  it  broadened 
into  small  ponds,  bearing  a  few  lily-pads.  This  meadow 
had  been  all  tramped  up  by  moose.  Trails  led  hither  and 
thither  through  the  grass,  the  willow  twigs  were  cropped 
off,  and  the  muddy  banks  of  the  little  black  ponds  were 
indented  by  hoof-marks.  Evidently  most  of  the  lilies  had 
been  plucked.  The  footprints  were  unmistakable ;  a 
moose's  foot  is  longer  and  slimmer  than  a  caribou's,  while 
on  the  other  hand  it  is  much  larger  than  an  elk's,  and  a 
longer  oval  in  shape. 

Most  of  the  sign  was  old,  this  high  alpine  meadow,  sur- 
rounded by  snow  mountains,  having  clearly  been  a  favorite 
resort  for  moose  in  the  summer  ;  but  some  enormous,  fresh 
tracks  told  that  one  or  more  old  bulls  were  still  frequent- 
ing the  place. 

The  light  was  already  fading,  and,  of  course,  we  did 
not  wish  to  camp  where  we  were,  because  we  would  then 
certainly  scare  the  moose.  Accordingly  we  pushed  up 
the  valley  for  another  mile,  through  an  open  forest,  the 
ground  being  quite  free  from  underbrush  and  dead  timber, 
and  covered  with  a  carpet  of  thick  moss,  in  which  the  feet 
sank  noiselessly.  Then  we  came  to  another  beaver-meadow, 
which  offered  fine  feed  for  the  ponies.  On  its  edge  we 
hastily  pitched  camp,  just  at  dusk.  We  tossed  down  the 
packs  in  a  dry  grove,  close  to  the  brook,  and  turned  the 
tired  ponies  loose  in  the  meadow,  hobbling  the  little  mare 
that  carried  the  bell.  The  ground  was  smooth.  We  threw 
a  cross-pole  from  one  to  the  other  of  two  young  spruces, 


212  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

which  happened  to  stand  handily,  and  from  it  stretched 
and  pegged  out  a  piece  of  canvas,  which  we  were  using  as 
a  shelter  tent.  Beneath  this  we  spread  our  bedding,  laying 
under  it  the  canvas  sheets  in  which  it  had  been  wrapped. 
There  was  still  bread  left  over  from  yesterday's  baking, 
and  in  a  few  moments  the  kettle  was  boiling  and  the  frying- 
pan  sizzling,  while  one  of  us  skinned  and  cut  into  suitable 
pieces  two  grouse  we  had  knocked  over  on  our  march. 
For  fear  of  frightening  the  moose  we  built  but  a  small 
fire,  and  went  to  bed  soon  after  supper,  being  both  tired 
and  cold.  Fortunately,  what  little  breeze  there  was  blew 
up  the  valley. 

At  dawn  I  was  awake,  and  crawled  out  of  my  buffalo 
bag,  shivering  and  yawning.  My  companion  still  slum- 
bered heavily.  White  frost  covered  whatever  had  been 
left  outside.  The  cold  was  sharp,  and  I  hurriedly 
slipped  a  pair  of  stout  moccasins  on  my  feet,  drew  on  my 
gloves  and  cap,  and  started  through  the  ghostly  woods  for 
the  meadow  where  we  had  seen  the  moose  sign.  The  tufts 
of  grass  were  stiff  with  frost ;  black  ice  skimmed  the  edges 
and  quiet  places  of  the  little  brook. 

I  walked  slowly,  it  being  difficult  not  to  make  a  noise 
by  cracking  sticks  or  brushing  against  trees,  in  the  gloom  ; 
but  the  forest  was  so  open  that  it  favored  me.  When  I 
reached  the  edge  of  the  beaver-meadow  it  was  light  enough 
to  shoot,  though  the  front  sight  still  glimmered  indistinctly. 
Streaks  of  cold  red  showed  that  the  sun  would  soon  rise. 

Before  leaving  the  shelter  of  the  last  spruces  I  halted 
to  listen  ;  and  almost  immediately  heard  a  curious  splash- 
ing sound  from  the  middle  of  the  meadow,  where  the  brook 


The  Moose.  213 

broadened  into  small  willow-bordered  pools.  I  knew  at 
once  that  a  moose  was  in  one  of  these  pools,  wading  about 
and  pulling  up  the  water-lilies  by  seizing  their  slippery 
stems  in  his  lips,  plunging  his  head  deep  under  water  to 
do  so.  The  moose  love  to  feed  in  this  way  in  the-het 
months,  when  they  spend  all  the  time  they  can  in  the 
water,  feeding  or  lying  down  ;  nor  do  they  altogether 
abandon  the  habit  even  when  the  weather  is  so  cold  that 
icicles  form  in  their  shaggy  coats. 

Crouching,  I  stole  noiselessly  along  the  edge  of  the  wil- 
low thicket.  The  stream  twisted  through  it  from  side  to  side 
in  zigzags,  so  that  every  few  rods  I  got  a  glimpse  down  a 
lane  of  black  water.  In  a  minute  I  heard  a  slight  splash- 
ing near  me ;  and  on  passing  the  next  point  of  bushes,  I 
saw  the  shadowy  outline  of  the  moose's  hindquarters, 
standing  in  a  bend  of  the  water.  In  a  moment  he  walked 
onwards,  disappearing.  I  ran  forward  a  couple  of  rods, 
and  then  turned  in  among  the  willows,  to  reach  the  brook 
where  it  again  bent  back  towards  me.  The  splashing  in 
the  water,  and  the  rustling  of  the  moose's  body  against 
the  frozen  twigs,  drowned  the  little  noise  made  by  my 
moccasined  feet. 

I  strode  out  on  the  bank  at  the  lower  end  of  a  long 
narrow  pool  of  water,  dark  and  half  frozen.  In  this  pool, 
half  way  down  and  facing  me,  but  a  score  of  yards  off, 
stood  the  mighty  marsh  beast,  strange  and  uncouth  in 
look  as  some  monster  surviving  over  from  the  Pliocene. 
His  vast  bulk  loomed  black  and  vague  in  the  dim  gray 
dawn ;  his  huge  antlers  stood  out  sharply ;  columns  of 
steam  rose  from  his  nostrils.  For  several  seconds  he 


214  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

fronted  me  motionless ;  then  he  began  to  turn,  slowly, 
and  as  if  he  had  a  stiff  neck.  When  quarter  way  round 
I  fired  into  his  shoulder ;  whereat  he  reared  and  bounded 
on  the  bank  with  a  great  leap,  vanishing  in  the  willows. 
Through  these  I  heard  him  crash  like  a  whirlwind  for  a 
dozen  rods ;  then  down  he  fell,  and  when  I  reached  the 
spot  he  had  ceased  to  struggle.  The  ball  had  gone  through 
his  heart. 

When  a  moose  is  thus  surprised  at  close  quarters,  it 
will  often  stand  at  gaze  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then 
turn  stiffly  around  until  headed  in  the  right  direction ; 
once  thus  headed  aright  it  starts  off  with  extraordinary 
speed. 

The  flesh  of  the  moose  is  very  good  ;  though  some 
deem  it  coarse.  Old  hunters,  who  always  like  rich, 
greasy  food,  rank  a  moose's  nose  with  a  beaver's  tail,  as 
the  chief  of  backwood  delicacies  ;  personally  I  never  liked 
either.  The  hide  of  the  moose,  like  the  hide  of  the  elk, 
is  of  very  poor  quality,  much  inferior  to  ordinary  buck- 
skin ;  caribou  hide  is  the  best  of  all,  especially  when  used 
as  webbing  for  snow-shoes. 

The  moose  is  very  fond  of  frequenting  swampy  woods 
throughout  the  summer,  and  indeed  late  into  the  fall. 
These  swampy  woods  are  not  necessarily  in  the  lower 
valleys,  some  being  found  very  high  among  the  moun- 
tains. By  preference  it  haunts  those  containing  lakes, 
where  it  can  find  the  long  lily-roots  of  which  it  is  so  fond, 
and  where  it  can  escape  the  torment  of  the  mosquitoes 
and  deer-flies  by  lying  completely  submerged  save  for  its 
nostrils.  It  is  a  bold  and  good  swimmer,  readily  crossing 


HEAD    OF    MOOSE. 


SHOT    SEPTEMBER,    l88c 


The  Moose.  215 

lakes  of  large  size ;  but  it  is  of  course  easily  slain  if  dis- 
covered by  canoe-men  while  in  the  water.  It  travels  well 
through  bogs,  but  not  as  well  as  the  caribou  ;  and  it  will 
not  venture  on  ice  at  all  if  it  can  possibly  avoid  it. 

After  the  rut  begins  the  animals  roam  everywhere 
through  the  woods  ;  and  where  there  are  hardwood  forests 
the  winter-yard  is  usually  made  among  them,  on  high 
ground,  away  from  the  swamps.  In  the  mountains  the 
deep  snows  drive  the  moose,  like  all  other  game,  down 
to  the  lower  valleys,  in  hard  winters.  In  the  summer  it 
occasionally  climbs  to  the  very  summits  of  the  wooded 
ranges,  to  escape  the  flies  ;  and  it  is  said  that  in  certain 
places  where  wolves  are  plenty  the  cows  retire  to  the  tops 
of  the  mountains  to  calve.  More  often,  however,  they 
select  some  patch  of  very  dense  cover,  in  a  swamp  or  by 
a  lake,  for  this  purpose.  Their  ways  of  life  of  course 
vary  with  the  nature  of  the  country  they  frequent.  In 
the  towering  chains  of  the  Rockies,  clad  in  sombre  and 
unbroken  evergreen  forests,  their  habits,  in  regard  to 
winter-  and  summer-homes,  and  choice  of  places  of  seclu- 
sion for  cows  with  young  calves  and  bulls  growing  their 
antlers,  differ  from  those  of  their  kind  which  haunt  the 
comparatively  low,  hilly,  lake-studded  country  of  Maine 
and  Nova  Scotia,  where  the  forests  are  of  birch,  beech, 
and  maple,  mixed  with  the  pine,  spruce,  and  hemlock. 

The  moose  being  usually  monogamous  is  never  found 
in  great  herds  like  the  wapiti  and  caribou.  Occasionally 
a  troop  of  fifteen  or  twenty  individuals  may  be  seen,  but 
this  is  rare  ;  more  often  it  is  found  singly,  in  pairs,  or  in 
family  parties,  composed  of  a  bull,  a  cow,  and  two  or 


216  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

more  calves  and  yearlings.  In  yarding,  two  or  more  such 
families  may  unite  to  spend  the  winter  together  in  an 
unusually  attractive  locality  ;  and  during  the  rut  many 
bulls  are  sometimes  found  together,  perhaps  following 
the  trail  of  a  cow  in  single  file. 

In  the  fall,  winter,  and  early  spring,  and  in  certain 
places  during  summer,  the  moose  feeds  principally  by 
browsing,  though  always  willing  to  vary  its  diet  by 
mosses,  lichens,  fungi,  and  ferns.  In  the  eastern  forests, 
with  their  abundance  of  hardwood,  the  birch,  maple,  and 
moose- wood  form  its  favorite  food.  In  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, where  the  forests  are  almost  purely  evergreen,  it 
feeds  on  such  willows,  alders,  and  aspens  as  it  can  find, 
and  also,  when  pressed  by  necessity,  on  balsam,  fir,  spruce, 
and  very  young  pine.  It  peels  the  bark  between  its  hard 
palate  and  sharp  lower  teeth,  to  a  height  of  seven  or 
eight  feet ;  these  "  peelings "  form  conspicuous  moose 
signs.  It  crops  the  juicy,  budding  twigs  and  stem  tops 
to  the  same  height;  and  if  the  tree  is  too  tall  it  "rides" 
it,  that  is,  straddles  the  slender  trunk  with  its  fore  legs, 
pushing  it  over  and  walking  up  it  until  the  desired 
branches  are  within  reach.  No  beast  is  more  destructive 
to  the  young  growth  of  a  forest  than  the  moose.  Where 
much  persecuted  it  feeds  in  the  late  evening,  early  morn- 
ing, and  by  moonlight.  Where  rarely  disturbed  it  passes 
the  day  much  as  cattle  do,  alternately  resting  and  feeding 
for  two  or  three  hours  at  a  time. 

Young  moose,  when  caught,  are  easily  tamed,  and  are 
very  playful,  delighting  to  gallop  to  and  fro,  kicking, 
striking,  butting,  and  occasionally  making  grotesque 


The  Moose.  217 

faces.  As  they  grow  old  they  are  apt  to  become  danger- 
ous, and  even  their  play  takes  the  form  of  a  mock  fight. 
Some  lumbermen  I  knew  on  the  Aroostook,  in  Maine, 
once  captured  a  young  moose,  and  put  it  in  a  pen  of  logs. 
A  few  days  later  they  captured  another,  somewhat 
smaller,  and  put  it  in  the  same  pen,  thinking  the  first 
would  be  grateful  at  having  a  companion.  But  if  it  was 
it  dissembled  its  feelings,  for  it  promptly  fell  on  the 
unfortunate  new-comer  and  killed  it  before  it  could  be 
rescued. 

During  the  rut  the  bulls  seek  the  cows  far  and  wide, 
uttering  continually  throughout  the  night  a  short,  loud  roar, 
which  can  be  heard  at  a  distance  of  four  or  five  miles  ;  the 
cows  now  and  then  respond  with  low,  plaintive  bellows. 
The  bulls  also  thrash  the  tree  trunks  with  their  horns, 
and  paw  big  holes  in  soft  ground ;  and  when  two  rivals 
come  together  at  this  season  they  fight  with  the  most 
desperate  fury.  It  is  chiefly  in  these  battles  with  one 
another  that  the  huge  antlers  are  used ;  in  contending 
with  other  foes  they  strike  terrible  blows  with  their  fore 
hoofs  and  also  sometimes  lash  out  behind  like  a  horse. 
The  bear  occasionally  makes  a  prey  of  the  moose ;  the 
cougar  is  a  more  dangerous  enemy  in  the  few  districts 
where  both  animals  are  found  at  all  plentifully ;  but  next 
to  man  its  most  dreaded  foe  is  the  big  timber  wolf,  that 
veritable  scourge  of  all  animals  of  the  deer  kind.  Against 
all  of  these  the  moose  defends  itself  valiantly  ;  a  cow  with 
a  calf  and  a  rutting  bull  being  especially  dangerous 
opponents.  In  deep  snows  through  which  the  great  deer 
flounders  while  its  adversary  runs  lightly  on  the  crust,  a 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

single  wolf  may  overcome  and  slaughter  a  big  bull  moose  ; 
but  with  a  fair  chance  no  one  or  two  wolves  would  be  a 
match  for  it.  Desperate  combats  take  place  before  a 
small  pack  of  wolves  can  master  the  shovel-horned  quarry, 
unless  it  is  taken  at  a  hopeless  disadvantage  ;  and  in  these 
battles  the  prowess  of  the  moose  is  shown  by  the  fact  that 
it  is  no  unusual  thing  for  it  to  kill  one  or  more  of  the 
ravenous  throng ;  generally  by  a  terrific  blow  of  the  fore- 
leg, smashing  a  wolfs  skull  or  breaking  its  back.  I  have 
known  of  several  instances  of  wolves  being  found  dead, 
having  perished  in  this  manner.  Still  the  battle  usually 
ends  the  other  way,  the  wolves  being  careful  to  make  the 
attack  with  the  odds  in  their  favor ;  and  even  a  small  pack 
of  the  ferocious  brutes  will  in  a  single  winter  often  drive 
the  moose  completely  out  of  a  given  district.  Both 
cougar  and  bear  generally  reckon  on  taking  the  moose 
unawares,  when  they  jump  on  it.  In  one  case  that  came 
to  my  knowledge  a  black  bear  was  killed  by  a  cow  moose 
whose  calf  he  had  attacked. 

In  the  northeast  a  favorite  method  of  hunting  the 
moose  is  by  "calling"  the  bulls  in  the  rutting  season,  at 
dawn  or  nightfall ;  the  caller  imitating  their  cries  through 
a  birch-bark  trumpet.  If  the  animals  are  at  all  wary,  this 
kind  of  sport  can  only  be  carried  on  in  still  weather,  as  the 
approaching  bull  always  tries  to  get  the  wind  of  the  caller. 
It  is  also  sometimes  slain  by  fire-hunting,  from  a  canoe, 
as  the  deer  are  killed  in  the  Adirondacks.  This,  however, 
is  but  an  ignoble  sport ;  and  to  kill  the  animal  while 
it  is  swimming  in  a  lake  is  worse.  However,  there  is 
sometimes  a  spice  of  excitement  even  in  these  unworthy 


The  Moose.  219 

methods  of  the  chase ;  for  a  truculent  moose  will  do  its 
best,  with  hoofs  and  horns,  to  upset  the  boat. 

The  true  way  to  kill  the  noble  beast,  however,  is  by  fair 
still-hunting.  There  is  no  grander  sport  than  still-hunt' 
ing  the  moose,  whether  in  the  vast  pine  and  birch  forests 
of  the  northeast,  or  among  the  stupendous  mountain 
masses  of  the  Rockies.  The  moose  has  wonderfully  keen 
nose  and  ears,  though  its  eyesight  is  not  remarkable. 
Most  hunters  assert  that  he  is  the  wariest  of  all  game,  and 
the  most  difficult  to  kill.  I  have  never  been  quite  satisfied 
that  this  was  so  ;  it  seems  to  me  that  the  nature  of  the 
ground  wherein  it  dwells  helps  it  even  more  than  do  its 
own  sharp  senses.  It  is  true  that  I  made  many  trips  in 
vain  before  killing  my  first  moose ;  but  then  I  had  to  hunt 
through  tangled  timber,  where  I  could  hardly  move  a  step 
without  noise,  and  could  never  see  thirty  yards  ahead.  If 
moose  were  found  in  open  park-like  forests  like  those 
where  I  first  killed  elk,  on  the  Bighorn  Mountains,  or 
among  brushy  coulies  and  bare  hills,  like  the  Little 
Missouri  Bad  Lands,  where  I  first  killed  blacktail  deer,  I 
doubt  whether  they  would  prove  especially  difficult  animals 
to  bag.  My  own  experience  is  much  too  limited  to  allow 
me  to  speak  with  any  certainty  on  the  point ;  but  it  is 
borne  out  by  what  more  skilled  hunters  have  told  me. 
In  the  Big  Hole  Basin,  in  southwest  Montana,  moose 
were  quite  plentiful  in  the  late  'seventies.  Two  or  three 
of  the  old  settlers,  whom  I  know  as  veteran  hunters  and 
trustworthy  men,  have  told  me  that  in  those  times  the 
moose  were  often  found  in  very  accessible  localities  ;  and 
that  when  such  was  the  case  they  were  quite  as  easily 


220  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

killed  as  elk.  In  fact,  when  run  across  by  accident  they 
frequently  showed  a  certain  clumsy  slowness  of  apprehen- 
sion which  amounted  to  downright  stupidity.  One  of  the 
most  successful  moose-hunters  I  know  is  Col.  Cecil  Clay, 
of  the  Department  of  Law,  in  Washington  ;  he  it  was  who 
killed  the  moose  composing  the  fine  group  mounted  by 
Mr.  Hornaday,  in  the  National  Museum.  Col.  Clay  lost 
his  right  arm  in  the  Civil  War ;  but  is  an  expert  rifleshot 
nevertheless,  using  a  short,  light  forty-four  calibre  old  style 
Winchester  carbine.  With  this  weapon  he  has  killed 
over  a  score  of  moose,  by  fair  still-hunting ;  and  he  tells 
me  that  on  similar  ground  he  considers  it  if  anything 
rather  less  easy  to  still-hunt  and  kill  a  whitetail  deer  than 
it  is  to  kill  a  moose. 

My  friend  Col.  James  Jones  killed  two  moose  in  a 
day  in  northwestern  Wyoming,  not  far  from  the  Tetons ; 
he  was  alone  when  he  shot  them  and  did  not  find  them 
especially  wary.  Ordinarily,  moose  are  shot  at  fairly  close 
range  ;  but  another  friend  of  mine,  Mr.  E.  P.  Rogers,  once 
dropped  one  with  a  single  bullet,  at  a  distance  of  nearly 
three  hundred  yards.  This  happened  by  Bridger's  Lake, 
near  Two-Ocean  Pass. 

The  moose  has  a  fast  walk,  and  its  ordinary  gait  when 
going  at  any  speed  is  a  slashing  trot.  Its  long  legs  give 
it  a  wonderful  stride,  enabling  it  to  clear  down-timber  and 
high  obstacles  of  all  sorts  without  altering  its  pace.  It 
also  leaps  well.  If  much  pressed  or  startled  it  breaks  into 
an  awkward  gallop,  which  is  quite  fast  for  a  few  hundred 
yards,  but  which  speedily  tires  it  out.  After  being  dis- 
turbed by  the  hunter  a  moose  usually  trots  a  long  distance 
before  halting. 


The  Moose.  221 

One  thing  which  renders  the  chase  of  the  moose  partic- 
ularly interesting  is  the  fact  that  there  is  in  it  on  rare 
occasions  a  spice  of  peril.  Under  certain  circumstances  it 
may  be  called  dangerous  quarry,  being,  properly  speaking, 
the  only  animal  of  the  deer  kind  which  ever  fairly  deserves- 
the  title.  In  a  hand  to  hand  grapple  an  elk  or  caribou, 
or  even  under  exceptional  circumstances  a  blacktail  or  a 
whitetail,  may  show  itself  an  ugly  antagonist ;  and  indeed 
a  maddened  elk  may  for  a  moment  take  the  offensive ; 
but  the  moose  is  the  only  one  of  the  tribe  with  which  this 
attitude  is  at  all  common.  In  bodily  strength  and  capa- 
city to  do  harm  it  surpasses  the  elk  ;  and  in  temper  it  is 
far  more  savage  and  more  apt  to  show  fight  when  assailed 
by  man  ;  exactly  as  the  elk  in  these  respects  surpasses  the 
common  deer.  Two  hunters  with  whom  I  was  well  ac- 
quainted once  wintered  between  the  Wind  River  Moun- 
tains and  the  Three  Tetons,  many  years  ago,  in  the  days 
of  the  buffalo.  They  lived  on  game,  killing  it  on  snow- 
shoes  ;  for  the  most  part  wapiti  and  deer,  but  also  bison, 
and  one  moose,  though  they  saw  others.  The  wapiti  bulls 
kept  their  antlers  two  months  longer  than  the  moose ; 
nevertheless,  when  chased  they  rarely  made  an  effort  to 
use  them,  while  the  hornless  moose  displayed  far  more 
pugnacity,  and  also  ran  better  through  the  deep  snow. 
The  winter  was  very  severe,  the  snows  were  heavy  and 
the  crusts  hard  ;  so  that  the  hunters  had  little  trouble  in 
overtaking  their  game,  although — being  old  mountain-men, 
and  not  hide-hunters — they  killed  only  what  was  needed 
Of  course  in  such  hunting  they  came  very  close  to  the 
harried  game,  usually  after  a  chase  of  from  twenty  minutes 
to  three  hours.  They  found  that  the  ordinary  deer  would 


222  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

scarcely  charge  under  any  circumstances  ;  that  among  the 
wapiti  it  was  only  now  and  then  that  individuals  would 
turn  upon  their  pursuers — though  they  sometimes  charged 
boldly  ;  but  that  both  the  bison  and  especially  the  moose 
when  worried  and  approached  too  near,  would  often  turn 
to  bay  and  make  charge  after  charge  in  the  most  resolute 
manner,  so  that  they  had  to  be  approached  with  some 
caution. 

Under  ordinary  conditions,  however,  there  is  very  lit- 
tle danger,  indeed,  of  a  moose  charging.  A  charge  does 
not  take  place  once  in  a  hundred  times  when  the  moose 
is  killed  by  fair  still-hunting  ;  and  it  is  altogether  excep- 
tional for  those  who  assail  them  from  boats  or  canoes  to  be 
put  in  jeopardy.  Even  a  cow  moose,  with  her  calf,  will 
run  if  she  has  the  chance  ;  and  a  rutting  bull  will  do  the 
same.  Such  a  bull  when  wounded  may  walk  slowly  for- 
ward, grunting  savagely,  stamping  with  his  forefeet,  and 
slashing  the  bushes  with  his  antlers;  but,  if  his  antago- 
nist is  any  distance  off,  he  rarely  actually  runs  at  him. 
Yet  there  are  now  and  then  found  moose  prone  to  at- 
tack on  slight  provocation  ;  for  these  great  deer  differ 
as  widely  as  men  in  courage  and  ferocity.  Occasionally 
a  hunter  is  charged  in  the  fall  when  he  has  lured  the 
game  to  him  by  calling,  or  when  he  has  wounded  it  after 
a  stalk.  In  one  well-authenticated  instance  which  was 
brought  to  my  attention,  a  settler  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
St.  Johns,  in  New  Brunswick,  was  tramped  to  death  by  a 
bull  moose  which  he  had  called  to  him  and  wounded.  A 
New  Yorker  of  my  acquaintance,  Dr.  Merrill,  was  charged 
under  rather  peculiar  circumstances.  He  stalked  and 


The  Moose.  223 

mortally  wounded  a  bull  which  promptly  ran  towards  him. 
Between  them  was  a  gully  in  which  it  disappeared.  Imme- 
diately afterwards,  as  he  thought,  it  reappeared  on  his  side 
of  the  gully,  and  with  a  second  shot  he  dropped  it.  Walk- 
ing forward  he  found  to  his  astonishment  that  with  his 
second  bullet  he  had  killed  a  cow  moose  ;  the  bull  lay 
dying  in  the  gully,  out  of  which  he  had  scared  the  cow 
by  his  last  rush. 

However,  speaking  broadly,  the  danger  to  the  still- 
hunter  engaged  in  one  of  the  legitimate  methods  of  the 
chase  is  so  small  that  it  may  be  disregarded;  for  he 
usually  kills  his  game  at  some  little  distance,  while  the 
moose,  as  a  rule,  only  attacks  if  it  has  been  greatly  worried 
and  angered,  and  if  its  pursuer  is  close  at  hand.  When  a 
moose  is  surprised  and  shot  at  by  a  hunter  some  way  off, 
its  one  thought  is  of  flight.  Hence,  the  hunters  who  are 
charged  by  moose  are  generally  those  who  follow  them 
during  the  late  winter  and  early  spring,  when  the  animals 
have  yarded  and  can  be  killed  on  snow-shoes — by  "  crust- 
ing," as  it  is  termed,  a  very  destructive,  and  often  a  very 
unsportsman-like  species  of  chase. 

If  the  snow-fall  is  very  light,  moose  do  not  yard  at  all ; 
but  in  a  hard  winter  they  begin  to  make  their  yards  in 
December.  A  "  yard  "  is  not,  as  some  people  seem  to 
suppose,  a  trampled-down  space,  with  definite  boundaries  ; 
the  term  merely  denotes  the  spot  which  a  moose  has  chosen 
for  its  winter  home,  choosing  it  because  it  contains  plenty 
of  browse  in  the  shape  of  young  trees  and  saplings,  and 
perhaps  also  because  it  is  sheltered  to  some  extent  from 
the  fiercest  winds  and  heaviest  snowdrifts.  The  animal 


224  The  Wilderness  H^lnter. 

travels  to  and  fro  across  this  space  in  straight  lines  and 
irregular  circles  after  food,  treading  in  its  own  footsteps, 
where  practicable.  As  the  snow  steadily  deepens,  these 
lines  of  travel  become  beaten  paths.  There  results  finally 
a  space  half  a  mile  square — sometimes  more,  sometimes 
very  much  less,  according  to  the  lay  of  the  land,  and  the 
number  of  moose  yarding  together — where  the  deep  snow 
is  seamed  in  every  direction  by  a  network  of  narrow  paths 
along  which  a  moose  can  travel  at  speed,  its  back  level 
with  the  snow  round  about.  Sometimes,  when  moose  are 
very  plenty,  many  of  these  yards  lie  so  close  together  that 
the  beasts  can  readily  make  their  way  from  one  to  another. 
When  such  is  the  case,  the  most  expert  snow-shoer,  under 
the  most  favorable  conditions,  cannot  overtake  them,  for 
they  can  then  travel  very  fast  through  the  paths,  keeping 
their  gait  all  day.  In  the  early  decades  of  the  present 
century,  the  first  settlers  in  Aroostook  County,  Maine, 
while  moose-hunting  in  winter,  were  frequently  baffled  in 
this  manner. 

When  hunters  approach  an  isolated  yard  the  moose 
immediately  leave  it  and  run  off  through  the  snow.  If 
there  is  no  crust,  and  if  their  long  legs  can  reach  the 
ground,  the  snow  itself  impedes  them  but  little,  because 
of  their  vast  strength  and  endurance.  Snowdrifts 
which  render  an  ordinary  deer  absolutely  helpless,  and 
bring  even  an  elk  to  a  standstill,  offer  no  impediment 
whatever  to  a  moose.  If,  as  happens  very  rarely,  the  loose 
snow  is  of  such  depth  that  even  the  stilt-like  legs  of  the 
moose  cannot  touch  solid  earth,  it  flounders  and  struggles 
forward  for  a  little  time,  and  then  sinks  exhausted  ;  for  a 


The  Moose.  225 

caribou  is  the  only  large  animal  which  can  travel  under 
such  conditions.  If  there  be  a  crust,  even  though  the 
snow  is  not  remarkably  deep,  the  labor  of  the  moose  is 
vastly  increased,  as  it  breaks  through  at  every  step,  cutting 
its  legs  and  exhausting  itself.  A  caribou,  on  the  other" 
hand,  will  go  across  a  crust  as  well  as  a  man  on  snow-shoes, 
and  can  never  be  caught  by  the  latter,  save  under  altogether 
exceptional  conditions  of  snowfall  and  thaw. 

"  Crusting,"  or  following  game  on  snow-shoes,  is,  as  the 
name  implies,  almost  always  practised  after  the  middle  of 
February,  when  thaws  begin,  and  the  snow  crusts  on  top. 
The  conditions  for  success  in  crusting  moose  and  deer  are 
very  different.  A  crust  through  which  a  moose  would 
break  at  every  stride  may  carry  a  running  deer  without 
mishap  ;  while  the  former  animal  would  trot  at  ease  through 
drifts  in  which  the  latter  would  be  caught  as  if  in  a  quick- 
sand. 

Hunting  moose  on  snow,  therefore,  may  be,  and  very 
often  is,  mere  butchery  ;  and  because  of  this  possibility  or 
probability,  and  also  because  of  the  fact  that  it  is  by  far 
the  most  destructive  kind  of  hunting,  and  is  carried  on  at 
a  season  when  the  bulls  are  hornless  and  the  cows  heavy 
with  calf,  it  is  rigidly  and  properly  forbidden  wherever 
there  are  good  game-laws.  Yet  this  kind  of  hunting  may 
also  be  carried  on  under  circumstances  which  render  it  if 
not  a  legitimate,  yet  a  most  exciting  and  manly  sport,  only 
to  be  followed  by  men  of  tried  courage,  hardihood,  and 
skill.  This  is  not  because  it  ever  necessitates  any  skill 
whatever  in  the  use  of  the  rifle,  or  any  particular  knowl- 
edge of  hunting-craft ;  but  because  under  the  conditions 


226  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

spoken  of  the  hunter  must  show  great  endurance  and  res- 
olution, and  must  be  an  adept  in  the  use  of  snow-shoes. 

It  all  depends  upon  the  depth  of  the  snow  and  the 
state  of  the  crust.  If  when  the  snow  is  very  deep  there 
comes  a  thaw,  and  if  it  then  freezes  hard,  the  moose  are 
overtaken  and  killed  with  ease ;  for  the  crust  cuts  their 
legs,  they  sink  to  their  bellies  at  every  plunge,  and 
speedily  become  so  worn  out  that  they  can  no  longer  keep 
ahead  of  any  man  who  is  even  moderately  skilful  in  the 
use  of  show-shoes ;  though  they  do  not,  as  deer  so  often 
do,  sink  exhausted  after  going  a  few  rods  from  their  yard. 
Under  such  circumstances  a  few  hardy  hunters  or  settlers, 
who  are  perfectly  reckless  in  slaughtering  game,  may 
readily  kill  all  the  moose  in  a  district.  It  is  a  kind  of 
hunting  which  just  suits  the  ordinary  settler,  who  is  hardy 
and  enduring,  but  knows  little  of  hunting-craft  proper. 

If  the  snow  is  less  deep,  or  the  crust  not  so  heavy,  the 
moose  may  travel  for  scores  of  miles  before  it  is  over- 
taken ;  and  this  even  though  the  crust  be  strong  enough 
to  bear  a  man  wearing  snow-shoes  without  breaking.  The 
chase  then  involves  the  most  exhausting  fatigue.  More- 
over, it  can  be  carried  on  only  by  those  who  are  very  skilful 
in  the  use  of  snow-shoes.  These  snow-shoes  are  of  two 
kinds.  In  the  northeast,  and  in  the  most  tangled  forests 
of  the  northwest,  the  webbed  snow-shoes  are  used  ;  on  the 
bare  mountain-sides,  and  in  the  open  forests  of  the  Rockies, 
the  long  narrow  wooden  skees,  or  Norwegian  snow-skates 
are  preferred,  as  upon  then  men  can  travel  much  faster, 
though  they  are  less  handy  in  thick  timber.  Having 
donned  his  snow-shoes  and  struck  the  trail  of  a  moose,  the 


The  Moose.  227 

hunter  may  have  to  follow  it  three  days  if  the  snow  is  of 
only  ordinary  depth,  with  a  moderate  crust.  He  shuffles 
across  the  snow  without  halt  while  daylight  lasts,  and  lies 
down  wherever  he  happens  to  be  when  night  strikes  him, 
probably  with  a  little  frozen  bread  as  his  only  food.  The 
hunter  thus  goes  through  inordinate  labor,  and  suffers  from 
exposure  ;  not  infrequently  his  feet  are  terribly  cut  by  the 
thongs  of  the  snow-shoes,  and  become  sore  and  swollen, 
causing  great  pain.  When  overtaken  after  such  a  severe 
chase,  the  moose  is  U3ually  so  exhausted  as  to  be  unable 
to  make  any  resistance  ;  in  all  likelihood  it  has  run  itself 
to  a  standstill.  Accordingly,  the  quality  of  the  fire-arms 
makes  but  little  difference  in  this  kind  of  hunting.  Many 
of  the  most  famous  old  moose-hunters  of  Maine,  in  the 
long  past  days,  before  the  Civil  War,  when  moose  were 
plenty  there,  used  what  were  known  as  "  three  dollar " 
guns ;  light,  single-barrelled  smooth-bores.  One  whom  I 
knew  used  a  flint-lock  musket,  a  relic  of  the  War  of  1812. 
Another  in  the  course  of  an  exhausting  three  days'  chase 
lost  the  lock  off  his  cheap,  percussion-cap  gun  ;  and  when 
he  overtook  the  moose  he  had  to  explode  the  cap  by 
hammering  it  with  a  stone. 

It  is  in  "  crusting,"  when  the  chase  has  lasted  but  a 
comparatively  short  time,  that  moose  most  frequently  show 
fight ;  for  they  are  not  cast  into  a  state  of  wild  panic  by  a 
sudden  and  unlooked-for  attack  by  a  man  who  is  a  long 
distance  from  them,  but  on  the  contrary,  after  being  wor- 
ried and  irritated,  are  approached  very  near  by  foes  from 
whom  they  have  been  fleeing  for  hours.  Nevertheless,  in 
the  majority  of  cases  even  crusted  moose  make  not  the 


228  The  Wilderness  Plunter. 

slightest  attempt  at  retaliation.  If  the  chase  has  been 
very  long,  or  if  the  depth  of  the  snow  and  character  of 
the  crust  are  exceptionally  disadvantageous  to  them,  they 
are  so  utterly  done  out,  when  overtaken,  that  they  cannot 
make  a  struggle,  and  may  even  be  killed  with  an  axe.  I 
know  of  at  least  five  men  who  have  thus  killed  crusted 
moose  with  an  axe  ;  one  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  one  in 
Minnesota,  three  in  Maine. 

But  in  ordinary  snow  a  man  who  should  thus  attempt  to 
kill  a  moose  would  merely  jeopardize  his  own  life ;  and  it  is 
not  an  uncommon  thing  for  chased  moose,  when  closely 
approached  by  their  pursuers,  even  when  the  latter  carry 
guns  and  are  expert  snow-shoers,  to  charge  them 
with  such  ferocity  as  to  put  them  in  much  peril. 
A  brother  of  one  of  my  cow-hands,  a  man  from  Maine, 
was  once  nearly  killed  by  a  cow  moose.  She  had  been 
in  a  yard  with  her  last  year's  calf  when  started.  After 
two  or  three  hours'  chase  he  overtook  them.  They 
were  travelling  in  single  file,  the  cow  breaking  her  path 
through  the  snow,  while  the  calf  followed  close  behind,  and 
in  his  nervousness  sometimes  literally  ran  up  on  her.  The 
man  trotted  close  alongside  ;  but,  before  he  could  fire,  the 
old  cow  spun  round  and  charged  him,  her  mane  bristling 
and  her  green  eyes  snapping  with  rage.  It  happened  that 
just  there  the  snow  became  shallow,  and  the  moose  gained 
so  rapidly  that  the  man,  to  save  his  life,  sprang  up  a  tree. 
As  he  did  so  the  cow  reared  and  struck  at  him,  one  fore- 
foot catching  in  his  snow-shoe  and  tearing  it  clear  off,  giv- 
ing his  ankle  a  bad  wrench.  After  watching  him  a  minute 
or  two  she  turned  and  continued  her  flight ;  whereupon  he 


The  Moose.  229 

climbed  down  the  tree,  patched  up  his  torn  snow-shoe  and 
limped  after  the  moose,  which  he  finally  killed. 

An  old  hunter  named  Purvis  told  me  of  an  adventure  of 
the  kind,  which  terminated  fatally.  He  was  hunting  near 
the  Cceur  d'Alene  Mountains  with  a  mining  prospector 
named  Pingree  ;  both  were  originally  from  New  Hamp- 
shire. Late  in  November  there  came  a  heavy  fall  of  snow, 
deep  enough  to  soon  bring  a  deer  to  a  standstill,  although 
not  so  deep  as  to  hamper  a  moose's  movement.  The  men 
bound  on  their  skees  and  started  to  the  borders  of  a  lake, 
to  kill  some  blacktail.  In  a  thicket  close  to  the  lake's  brink 
they  suddenly  came  across  a  bull  moose ;  a  lean  old  fel- 
low, still  savage  from  the  rut.  Pingree,  who  was  nearest, 
fired  at  and  wounded  him  ;  whereupon  he  rushed  straight 
at  the  man,  knocked  him  down  before  he  could  turn  round 
on  his  skees,  and  began  to  pound  him  with  his  terrible 
forefeet.  Summoned  by  his  comrade's  despairing  cries, 
Purvis  rushed  round  the  thickets,  and  shot  the  squealing, 
trampling  monster  through  the  body,  and  immediately  after 
had  to  swing  himself  up  a  small  tree  to  avoid  its  furious 
rush.  The  moose  did  not  turn  after  this  charge,  but  kept 
straight  on,  and  was  not  seen  again.  The  wounded  man 
was  past  all  help,  for  his  chest  was  beaten  in,  and  he  died  in 
a  couple  of  hours. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


THE  BISON  OR  AMERICAN  BUFFALO. 

WHEN  we  became  a  nation,  in  1776,  the  buffa- 
loes, the  first  animals  to  vanish  when  the 
wilderness  is  settled,  roved  to  the  crests  of 
the  mountains  which  mark  the  western  boundaries  of 
Pennsylvania,  Virginia,  and  the  Carolinas.  They  were- 
plentiful  in  what  are  now  the  States  of  Ohio,  Ken- 
tucky, and  Tennessee.  But  by  the  beginning  of  the 
present  century  they  had  been  driven  beyond  the 
Mississippi  ;  and  for  the  next  eighty  years  they  formed 
one  of  the  most  distinctive  and  characteristic  features  of 
existence  on  the  great  plains.  Their  numbers  were  count- 
less —  incredible.  In  vast  herds  of  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  individuals,  they  roamed  from  the  Saskatchewan  to  the 
Rio  Grande  and  westward  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  They 
furnished  all  the  means  of  livelihood  to  the  tribes  of  Horse 
Indians,  and  to  the  curious  population  of  French  Metis,  or 
Half-breeds,  on  the  Red  River,as  well  as  to  those  dauntless 
and  archtypical  wanderers,  the  white  hunters  and  trappers. 
Their  numbers  slowly  diminished,  but  the  decrease  was 
very  gradual  until  after  the  Civil  War.  They  were  not  de- 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.    231 

stroyed  by  the  settlers,  but  by  the  railways  and  the  skin 
hunters. 

After  the  ending  of  the  Civil  War,  the  work  of  con- 
structing trans-continental  railway  lines  was  pushed  foward 
with  the  utmost  vigor.  These  supplied  cheap  and  indis- 
pensable, but  hitherto  wholly  lacking,  means  of  transpor- 
tation to  the  hunters ;  and  at  the  same  time  the  demand 
for  buffalo  robes  and  hides  became  very  great,  while  the 
enormous  numbers  of  the  beasts,  and  the  comparative  ease 
with  which  they  were  slaughtered,  attracted  throngs  of  ad- 
venturers. The  result  was  such  a  slaughter  of  big  game 
as  the  world  had  never  before  seen  ;  never  before  were  so 
many  large  animals  of  one  species  destroyed  in  so  short  a 
time.  Several  million  buffaloes  were  slain.  In  fifteen 
years  from  the  time  the  destruction  fairly  began  the  great 
herds  were  exterminated.  In  all  probability  there  are  not 
now,  all  told,  five  hundred  head  of  wild  buffaloes  on  the 
American  continent ;  and  no  herd  of  a  hundred  individ- 
uals has  been  in  existence  since  1884. 

The  first  great  break  followed  the  building  of  the  Union 
Pacific  Railway.  All  the  buffaloes  of  the  middle  region 
were  then  destroyed,  and  the  others  were  split  into  two 
vast  sets  of  herds,  the  northern  and  the  southern.  The 
latter  were  destroyed  first,  about  1878  ;  the  former  not  until 
1 883.  My  own  chief  experience  with  buffaloes  was  obtained 
in  the  latter  year,  among  small  bands  and  scattered  individ- 
uals, near  my  ranch  on  the  Little  Missouri ;  I  have  related 
it  elsewhere.  But  two  of  my  kinsmen  were  more  fortunate, 
and  took  part  in  the  chase  of  these  lordly  beasts  when  the 
herds  still  darkened  the  prairie  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see. 


232  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

During  the  first  two  months  of  1877,  my  brother  El- 
liott, then  a  lad  not  seventeen  years  old,  made  a  buffalo- 
hunt  toward  the  edge  of  the  Staked  Plains  in  northern 
Texas.  He  was  thus  in  at  the  death  of  the  southern 
herds  ;  for  all,  save  a  few  scattering  bands,  were  destroyed 
within  two  years  of  this  time.  He  was  with  my  cousin, 
John  Roosevelt,  and  they  went  out  on  the  range  with  six 
other  adventurers.  It  was  a  party  of  just  such  young  men 
as  frequently  drift  to  the  frontier.  All  were  short  of  cash, 
and  all  were  hardy,  vigorous  fellows,  eager  for  excitement 
and  adventure.  My  brother  was  much  the  youngest  of 
the  party,  and  the  least  experienced  ;  but  he  was  well- 
grown,  strong  and  healthy,  and  very  fond  of  boxing, 
wrestling,  running,  riding,  and  shooting ;  moreover,  he 
had  served  an  apprenticeship  in  hunting  deer  and  turkeys. 
Their  mess-kit,  ammunition,  bedding,  and  provisions  were 
carried  in  two  prairie-wagons,  each  drawn  by  four  horses. 
In  addition  to  the  teams  they  had  six  saddle-animals — all 
of  them  shaggy,  unkempt  mustangs.  Three  or  four  dogs, 
setters  and  half-bred  greyhounds,  trotted  along  behind  the 
wagons.  Each  man  took  his  turn  for  two  days  as  teamster 
and  cook ;  and  there  were  always  two  with  the  wagons,  or 
camp,  as  the  case  might  be,  while  the  other  six  were  off 
hunting,  usually  in  couples.  The  expedition  was  under- 
taken partly  for  sport  and  partly  with  the  hope  of  profit ; 
for,  after  purchasing  the  horses  and  wagons,  none  of  the 
party  had  any  money  left,  and  they  were  forced  to  rely 
upon  selling  skins  and  hides,  and,  when  near  the  forts, 
meat. 

They  started  on  January  2d,  and  shaped  their  course 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.    233 

for  the  head-waters  of  the  Salt  Fork  of  the  Brazos,  the 
centre  of  abundance  for  the  great  buffalo  herds.  During 
the  first  few  days  they  were  in  the  outskirts  of  the  settled 
country,  and  shot  only  small  game — quail  and  prairie  fowl ; 
then  they  began  to  kill  turkey,  deer,  and  antelope.  These 
they  swapped  for  flour  and  feed  at  the  ranches  or  squalid, 
straggling  frontier  towns.  On  several  occasions  the  hun- 
ters were  lost,  spending  the  night  out  in  the  open,  or  sleep- 
ing at  a  ranch,  if  one  was  found.  Both  towns  and  ranches 
were  filled  with  rough  customers  ;  all  of  my  brother's  com- 
panions were  muscular,  hot-headed  fellows  ;  and  as  a  con- 
sequence they  were  involved  in  several  savage  free  fights, 
in  which,  fortunately,  nobody  was  seriously  hurt.  My 
brother  kept  a  very  brief  diary,  the  entries  being  fairly 
startling  from  their  conciseness.  A  number  of  times,  the 
mention  of  their  arrival,  either  at  a  halting-place,  a  little 
village,  or  a  rival  buffalo-camp  is  followed  by  the  laconic 
remark,  "big  fight,"  or  "big  row  "  ;  but  once  they  evidently 
concluded  discretion  to  be  the  better  part  of  valor,  the  en- 
try for  January  2oth  being,  "  On  the  road — passed  through 
Belknap — too  lively,  so  kept  on  to  the  Brazos — very  late." 
The  buffalo-camps  in  particular  were  very  jealous  of  one 
another,  each  party  regarding  itself  as  having  exclusive 
right  to  the  range  it  was  the  first  to  find ;  and  on  several 
occasions  this  feeling  came  near  involving  my  brother  and 
his  companions  in  serious  trouble. 

While  slowly  driving  the  heavy  wagons  to  the  hunting 
grounds  they  suffered  the  usual  hardships  of  plains  travel. 
The  weather,  as  in  most  Texas  winters,  alternated  between 
the  extremes  of  heat  and  cold.  There  had  been  little 


234  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

rain  ;  in  consequence  water  was  scarce.  Twice  they  were 
forced  to  cross  wild,  barren  wastes,  where  the  pools  had 
dried  up,  and  they  suffered  terribly  from  thirst.  On  the 
first  occasion  the  horses  were  in  good  condition,  and  they 
travelled  steadily,  with  only  occasional  short  halts,  for 
over  thirty-six  hours,  by  which  time  they  were  across 
the  waterless  country.  The  journal  reads :  "  January 
27th. — Big  hunt — no  water,  and  we  left  Quinn's  block- 
house this  morning  3  A.M. — on  the  go  all  night — 
hot.  January  28th. — No  water — hot — at  seven  we 
struck  water,  and  by  eight  Stinking  Creek — grand  '  hur- 
rah.' "  On  the  second  occasion,  the  horses  were  weak  and 
travelled  slowly,  so  the  party  went  forty-eight  hours  with- 
out drinking.  "February  iQth. — Pulled  on  twenty-one 
miles — trail  bad — freezing  night,  no  water,  and  wolves 
after  our  fresh  meat.  2oth. — Made  nineteen  miles  over 
prairie ;  again  only  mud,  no  water,  freezing  hard — fright- 
ful thirst.  2 1 st. — Thirty  miles  to  Clear  Fork,  fresh 
water."  These  entries  were  hurriedly  jotted  down  at  the 
time,  by  a  boy  who  deemed  it  unmanly  to  make  any 
especial  note  of  hardship  or  suffering ;  but  every  plains- 
man will  understand  the  real  agony  implied  in  working 
hard  for  two  nights,  one  day,  and  portions  of  two  others, 
without  water,  even  in  cool  weather.  During  the  last  few 
miles  the  staggering  horses  were  only  just  able  to  drag  the 
lightly  loaded  wagon, — for  they  had  but  one  with  them  at  the 
time, — while  the  men  plodded  along  in  sullen  silence,  their 
mouths  so  parched  that  they  could  hardly  utter  a  word. 
My  own  hunting  and  ranching  were  done  in  the  north 
where  there  is  more  water ;  so  I  have  never  had  a  similar 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.    235 

experience.  Once  I  took  a  team  in  thirty-six  hours  across 
a  country  where  there  was  no  water ;  but  by  good  luck  it 
rained  heavily  in  the  night,  so  that  the  horses  had  plenty 
of  wet  grass,  and  I  caught  the  rain  in  my  slicker,  and  so 
had  enough  water  for  myself.  Personally,  I  have  but 
once  been  as  long  as  twenty-six  hours  without  water. 

The  party  pitched  their  permanent  camp  in  a  canyon 
of  the  Brazos  known  as  Canyon  Blanco.  The  last  few 
days  of  their  journey  they  travelled  beside  the  river 
through  a  veritable  hunter's  paradise.  The  drought  had 
forced  all  the  animals  to  come  to  the  larger  watercourses, 
and  the  country  was  literally  swarming  with  game.  Every 
day,  and  all  day  long,  the  wagons  travelled  through  the 
herds  of  antelopes  that  grazed  on  every  side,  while,  when- 
ever they  approached  the  canyon  brink,  bands  of  deer 
started  from  the  timber  that  fringed  the  river's  course  ; 
often,  even  the  deer  wandered  out  on  the  prairie  with  the 
antelope.  Nor  was  the  game  shy  ;  for  the  hunters,  both 
red  and  white,  followed  only  the  buffaloes,  until  the  huge, 
shaggy  herds  were  destroyed,  and  the  smaller  beasts  were 
in  consequence  but  little  molested. 

Once  my  brother  shot  five  antelopes  from  a  single 
stand,  when  the  party  were  short  of  fresh  venison  ;  he  was 
out  of  sight  and  to  leeward,  and  the  antelopes  seemed 
confused  rather  than  alarmed  at  the  rifle-reports  and  the 
fall  of  their  companions.  As  was  to  be  expected  where 
game  was  so  plenty,  wolves  and  coyotes  also  abounded. 
At  night  they  surrounded  the  camp,  wailing  and  howling 
in  a  kind  of  shrieking  chorus  throughout  the  hours  of 
darkness  ;  one  night  they  came  up  so  close  that  the  fright- 


236  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

ened  horses  had  to  be  hobbled  and  guarded.  On  another 
occasion  a  large  wolf  actually  crept  into  camp,  where  he 
was  seized  by  the  dogs,  and  the  yelling,  writhing  knot  of 
combatants  rolled  over  one  of  the  sleepers;  finally,  the 
long-toothed  prowler  managed  to  shake  himself  loose,  and 
vanished  in  the  gloom.  One  evening  they  were  almost  as 
much  startled  by  a  visit  of  a  different  kind.  They  were 
just  finishing  supper  when  an  Indian  stalked  suddenly  and 
silently  out  of  the  surrounding  darkness,  squatted  down  in 
the  circle  of  firelight,  remarked  gravely,  "  Me  Tonk,"  and 
began  helping  himself  from  the  stew.  He  belonged  to 
the  friendly  tribe  of  Tonkaways,  so  his  hosts  speedily 
recovered  their  equanimity ;  as  for  him,  he  had  never  lost 
his,  and  he  sat  eating  by  the  fire  until  there  was  literally 
nothing  left  to  eat.  The  panic  caused  by  his  appearance 
was  natural ;  for  at  that  time  the  Comanches  were  a 
scourge  to  the  buffalo-hunters,  ambushing  them  and  raid- 
ing their  camps ;  and  several  bloody  fights  had  taken 
place. 

Their  camp  had  been  pitched  near  a  deep  pool  or 
water-hole.  On  both  sides  the  bluffs  rose  like  walls,  and 
where  they  had  crumbled  and  lost  their  sheerness,  the 
vast  buffalo  herds,  passing  and  repassing  for  countless 
generations,  had  worn  furrowed  trails  so  deep  that  the 
backs  of  the  beasts  were  but  little  above  the  surrounding 
soil.  In  the  bottom,  and  in  places  along  the  crests  of  the 
cliffs  that  hemmed  in  the  canyon-like  valley,  there  were 
groves  of  tangled  trees,  tenanted  by  great  flocks  of  wild 
turkeys.  Once  my  brother  made  two  really  remarkable 
shots  at  a  pair  of  these  great  birds.  It  was  at  dusk,  and 


The  Bison  or  American  Bttffalo.     237 

they  were  flying  directly  overhead  from  one  cliff  to  the 
other.  He  had  in  his  hand  a  thirty-eight  calibre  Ballard 
rifle,  and,  as  the  gobblers  winged  their  way  heavily  by,  he 
brought  both  down  with  two  successive  bullets.  This  was 
of  course  mainly  a  piece  of  mere  luck  ;  but  it  meant  good 
shooting,  too.  The  Ballard  was  a  very  accurate,  handy 
little  weapon ;  it  belonged  to  me,  and  was  the  first  rifle  I 
ever  owned  or  used.  With  it  I  had  once  killed  a  deer,  the 
only  specimen  of  large  game  I  had  then  shot ;  and  I  pre- 
sented the  rifle  to  my  brother  when  he  went  to  Texas.  In 
our  happy  ignorance  we  deemed  it  quite  good  enough  for 
buffalo  or  anything  else  ;  but  out  on  the  plains  my  brother 
soon  found  himself  forced  to  procure  a  heavier  and  more 
deadly  weapon. 

When  camp  was  pitched  the  horses  were  turned  loose 
to  graze  and  refresh  themselves  after  their  trying  journey, 
during  which  they  had  lost  flesh  wofully.  They  were 
watched  and  tended  by  the  two  men  who  were  always  left 
in  camp,  and,  save  on  rare  occasions,  were  only  used  to 
haul  in  the  buffalo  hides.  The  camp-guards  for  the  time 
being  acted  as  cooks ;  and,  though  coffee  and  flour  both 
ran  short  and  finally  gave  out,  fresh  meat  of  every  kind  was 
abundant.  The  camp  was  never  without  buffalo-beef,  deer 
and  antelope  venison,  wild  turkeys,  prairie-chickens,  quails, 
ducks,  and  rabbits.  The  birds  were  simply  "  potted,"  as 
occasion  required  ;  when  the  quarry  was  deer  or  ante- 
lope, the  hunters  took  the  dogs  with  them  to  run  down  the 
wounded  animals.  But  almost  the  entire  attention  of  the 
hunters  was  given  to  the  buffalo.  After  an  evening  spent 
in  lounging  round  the  camp-fire  and  a  sound  night's  sleep, 


238  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

wrapped  in  robes  and  blankets,  they  would  get  up  before 
daybreak,  snatch  a  hurried  breakfast,  and  start  off  in 
couples  through  the  chilly  dawn.  The  great  beasts  were 
very  plentiful  ;  in  the  first  day's  hunt  twenty  were  slain  ; 
but  the  herds  were  restless  and  ever  on  the  move.  Some- 
times they  would  be  seen  right  by  the  camp,  and  again  it 
would  need  an  all-day's  tramp  to  find  them.  There  was  no 
difficulty  in  spying  them — the  chief  trouble  with  forest 
game  ;  for  on  the  prairie  a  buffalo  makes  no  effort  to  hide 
and  its  black,  shaggy  bulk  looms  up  as  far  as  the  eye  can 
see.  Sometimes  they  were  found  in  small  parties  of  three 
or  four  individuals,  sometimes  in  bands  of  about  two  hun- 
dred, and  again  in  great  herds  of  many  thousands ;  and 
solitary  old  bulls,  expelled  from  the  herds,  were  common. 
If  on  broken  land,  among  hills  and  ravines,  there  was  not 
much  difficulty  in  approaching  from  the  leeward ;  for, 
though  the  sense  of  smell  in  the  buffalo  is  very  acute,  they 
do  not  see  well  at  a  distance  through  their  overhanging 
frontlets  of  coarse  and  matted  hair.  If,  as  was  generally 
the  case,  they  were  out  on  the  open,  rolling  prairie,  the 
stalking  was  far  more  difficult.  Every  hollow,  every  earth 
hummock  and  sagebush  had  to  be  used  as  cover.  The 
hunter  wriggled  through  the  grass  flat  on  his  face,  push- 
ing himself  along  for  perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile  by  his 
toes  and  fingers,  heedless  of  the  spiny  cactus.  When  near 
enough  to  the  huge,  unconscious  quarry  the  hunter  began 
firing,  still  keeping  himself  carefully  concealed.  If  the 
smoke  was  blown  away  by  the  wind,  and  if  the  buffaloes 
caught  no  glimpse  of  the  assailant,  they  would  often  stand 
motionless  and  stupid  until  many  of  their  number  had  been 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.    239 

slain,  the  hunter  being  careful  not  to  fire  too  high,  aiming 
just  behind  the  shoulder,  about  a  third  of  the  way  up  the 
body,  that  his  bullet  might  go  through  the  lungs.  Some- 
times, even  after  they  saw  the  man,  they  would  act  as  if 
confused  and  panic-struck,  huddling  together  and  staring" 
at  the  smoke  puffs  ;  but  generally  they  were  off  at  a  lum- 
bering gallop  as  soon  as  they  had  an  idea  of  the  point 
of  danger.  When  once  started,  they  ran  for  many  miles 
before  halting,  and  their  pursuit  on  foot  was  extremely 
laborious. 

One  morning  my  cousin  and  brother  had  been  left  in 
camp  as  guards.  They  were  sitting  idly  warming  them- 
selves in  the  first  sunbeams,  when  their  attention  was 
sharply  drawn  to  four  buffaloes  that  were  coming  to  the 
pool  to  drink.  The  beasts  came  down  a  game  trail,  a 
deep  rut  in  the  bluff,  fronting  where  they  were  sitting, 
and  they  did  not  dare  to  stir  for  fear  of  being  discovered. 
The  buffaloes  walked  into  the  pool,  and,  after  drinking 
their  fill,  stood  for  some  time  with  the  water  running  out 
of  their  mouths,  idly  lashing  their  sides  with  their  short 
tails,  enjoying  the  bright  warmth  of  the  early  sunshine ; 
then,  with  much  splashing  and  the  gurgling  of  soft  mud, 
they  left  the  pool  and  clambered  up  the  bluff  with  un- 
wieldy agility.  As  soon  as  they  turned,  my  brother  and 
cousin  ran  for  their  rifles,  but  before  they  got  back  the 
buffaloes  had  crossed  the  bluff  crest.  Climbing  after 
them,  the  two  hunters  found,  when  they  reached  the  summit, 
that  their  game,  instead  of  halting,  had  struck  straight  off 
across  the  prairie  at  a  slow  lope,  doubtless  intending  to 
rejoin  the  herd  they  had  left.  After  a  moment's  consulta- 


240          The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

tion  the  men  went  in  pursuit,  excitement  overcoming 
their  knowledge  that  they  ought  not,  by  rights,  to  leave 
camp.  They  struck  a  steady  trot,  following  the  animals 
by  sight  until  they  passed  over  a  knoll,  and  then  trailing 
them.  Where  the  grass  was  long,  as  it  was  for  the  first 
four  or  five  miles,  this  was  a  work  of  no  difficulty,  and 
they  did  not  break  their  gait,  only  glancing  now  and  then 
at  the  trail.  As  the  sun  rose  and  the  day  became  warm, 
their  breathing  grew  quicker ;  and  the  sweat  rolled  off 
their  faces  as  they  ran  across  the  rough  prairie  sward,  up 
and  down  the  long  inclines,  now  and  then  shifting  their 
heavy  rifles  from  one  shoulder  to  the  other.  But  they 
were  in  good  training,  and  they  did  not  have  to  halt.  At 
last  they  reached  stretches  of  bare  ground,  sun-baked  and 
grassless,  where  the  trail  grew  dim  ;  and  here  they  had  to 
go  very  slowly,  carefully  examining  the  faint  dents  and 
marks  made  in  the  soil  by  the  heavy  hoofs,  and  unravel- 
ling the  trail  from  the  mass  of  old  footmarks.  It  was 
tedious  work,  but  it  enabled  them  to  completely  recover 
their  breath  by  the  time  that  they  again  struck  the  grass- 
land ;  and  but  a  few  hundred  yards  from  its  edge,  in  a 
slight  hollow,  they  saw  the  four  buffaloes  just  entering  a 
herd  of  fifty  or  sixty  that  were  scattered  out  grazing. 
The  herd  paid  no  attention  to  the  new-comers,  and  these 
immediately  began  to  feed  greedily.  After  a  whispered 
consultation,  the  two  hunters  crept  back,  and  made  a  long 
circle  that  brought  them  well  to  leeward  of  the  herd,  in 
line  with  a  slight  rise  in  the  ground.  They  then  crawled 
up  to  this  rise  and,  peering  through  the  tufts  of  tall,  rank 
grass,  saw  the  unconscious  beasts  a  hundred  and  twenty- 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.    241 

five  or  fifty  yards  away.  They  fired  together,  each 
mortally  wounding  his  animal,  and  then,  rushing  in  as  the 
herd  halted  in  confusion,  and  following  them  as  they  ran, 
impeded  by  numbers,  hurry,  and  panic,  they  eventually 
got  three  more. 

On  another  occasion  the  same  two  hunters  nearly  met 
with  a  frightful  death,  being  overtaken  by  a  vast  herd  of 
stampeded  buffaloes.  All  animals  that  go  in  herds  are 
subject  to  these  instantaneous  attacks  of  uncontrollable 
terror,  under  the  influence  of  which  they  become  perfectly 
mad,  and  rush  headlong  in  dense  masses  on  any  form  of 
death.  Horses,  and  more  especially  cattle,  often  suffer 
from  stampedes  ;  it  is  a  danger  against  which  the  cowboys 
are  compelled  to  be  perpetually  on  guard.  A  band  of 
stampeded  horses,  sweeping  in  mad  terror  up  a  valley, 
will  dash  against  a  rock  or  tree  with  such  violence  as  to 
leave  several  dead  animals  at  its  base,  while  the  survivors 
race  on  without  halting ;  they  will  overturn  and  destroy 
tents  and  wagons,  and  a  man  on  foot  caught  in  the  rush 
has  but  a  small  chance  for  his  life.  A  buffalo  stampede 
is  much  worse — or  rather  was  much  worse,  in  the  old  days 
—because  of  the  great  weight  and  immense  numbers  of 
the  beasts,  which,  in  a  fury  of  heedless  terror,  plunged 
over  cliffs  and  into  rivers,  and  bore  down  whatever  was 
in  their  path.  On  the  occasion  in  question,  my  brother 
and  cousin  were  on  their  way  homeward.  They  were  just 
mounting  one  of  the  long,  low  swells,  into  which  the 
prairie  was  broken,  when  they  heard  a  low,  muttering, 
rumbling  noise,  like  far-off  thunder.  It  grew  steadily 
louder,  and,  not  knowing  what  it  meant,  they  hurried  for 

16 


242  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

ward  to  the  top  of  the  rise.  As  they  reached  it,  they 
stopped  short  in  terror  and  amazement,  for  before  them 
the  whole  prairie  was  black  with  madly  rushing  buffaloes. 

Afterward  they  learned  that  another  couple  of  hunt- 
ers, four  or  five  miles  off,  had  fired  into  and  stampeded 
a  large  herd.  This  herd,  in  its  rush,  gathered  others,  all 
thundering  along  together  in  uncontrollable  and  increas- 
ing panic. 

The  surprised  hunters  were  far  away  from  any  broken 
ground  or  other  place  of  refuge,  while  the  vast  herd  of 
huge,  plunging,  maddened  beasts  was  charging  straight 
down  on  them  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant.  Down 
they  came ! — thousands  upon  thousands,  their  front  ex- 
tending a  mile  in  breadth,  while  the  earth  shook  beneath 
their  thunderous  gallop,  and,  as  they  came  closer,  their 
shaggy  frontlets  loomed  dimly  through  the  columns  of 
dust  thrown  up  from  the  dry  soil.  The  two  hunters  knew 
that  their  only  hope  for  life  was  to  split  the  herd,  which, 
though  it  had  so  broad  a  front,  was  not  very  deep.  If 
they  failed  they  would  inevitably  be  trampled  to  death. 

Waiting  until  the  beasts  were  in  close  range,  they 
opened  a  rapid  fire  from  their  heavy  breech-loading  rifles, 
yelling  at  the  top  of  their  voices.  For  a  moment  the  re- 
sult seemed  doubtful.  The  line  thundered  steadily  down 
on  them  ;  then  it  swayed  violently,  as  two  or  three  of  the 
brutes  immediately  in  their  front  fell  beneath  the  bullets, 
while  their  neighbors  made  violent  efforts  to  press  off  side- 
ways. Then  a  narrow  wedge-shaped  rift  appeared  in  the 
line,  and  widened  as  it  came  closer,  and  the  buffaloes, 
shrinking  from  their  foes  in  front,  strove  desperately  to 


1 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.    243 

edge  away  from  the  dangerous  neighborhood  ;  the 
shouts  and  shots  were  redoubled ;  the  hunters  were 
almost  choked  by  the  cloud  of  dust,  through  which  they 
could  see  the  stream  of  dark  huge  bodies  passing  within 
rifle-length  on  either  side  ;  and  in  a  moment  the  peril  was 
over,  and  the  two  men  were  left  alone  on  the  plain,  un- 
harmed, though  with  their  nerves  terribly  shaken.  The 
herd  careered  on  toward  the  horizon,  save  five  individuals 
which  had  been  killed  or  disabled  by  the  shots. 

On  another  occasion,  when  my  brother  was  out  with 
one  of  his  friends,  they  fired  at  a  small  herd  containing 
an  old  bull ;  the  bull  charged  the  smoke,  and  the  whole 
herd  followed  him.  Probably  they  were  simply  stam- 
peded, and  had  no  hostile  intention  ;  at  any  rate,  after  the 
death  of  their  leader,  they  rushed  by  without  doing  any 
damage. 

But  buffaloes  sometimes  charged  with  the  utmost  de- 
termination, and  were  then  dangerous  antagonists.  My 
cousin,  a  very  hardy  and  resolute  hunter,  had  a  narrow 
escape  from  a  wounded  cow  which  he  followed  up  a  steep 
bluff  or  sand  cliff.  Just  as  he  reached  the  summit,  he  was 
charged,  and  was  only  saved  by  the  sudden  appearance  of 
his  dog,  which  distracted  the  cow's  attention.  He  thus 
escaped  with  only  a  tumble  and  a  few  bruises. 

My  brother  also  came  in  for  a  charge,  while  killing  the 
biggest  bull  that  was  slain  by  any  of  the  party.  He  was  out 
alone,  and  saw  a  small  herd  of  cows  and  calves  at  some 
distance,  with  a  huge  bull  among  them,  towering  above 
them  like  a  giant.  There  was  no  break  in  the  ground, 
nor  any  tree  nor  bush  near  them,  but,  by  making  a  half- 


244  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

circle,  my  brother  managed  to  creep  up  against  the  wind 
behind  a  slight  roll  in  the  prairie  surface,  until  he  was 
within  seventy-five  yards  of  the  grazing  and  unconscious 
beasts.  There  were  some  cows  and  calves  between  him 
and  the  bull,  and  he  had  to  wait  some  moments  before 
they  shifted  position,  as  the  herd  grazed  onward  and  gave 
him  a  fair  shot ;  in  the  interval  they  had  moved  so  far 
forward  that  he  was  in  plain  view.  His  first  bullet  struck 
just  behind  the  shoulder;  the  herd  started  and  looked 
around,  but  the  bull  merely  lifted  his  head  and  took  a 
step  forward,  his  tail  curled  up  over  his  back.  The  next 
bullet  likewise  struck  fair,  nearly  in  the  same  place,  telling 
with  a  loud  "  pack  ! "  against  the  thick  hide,  and  making 
the  dust  fly  up  from  the  matted  hair.  Instantly  the  great 
bull  wheeled  and  charged  in  headlong  anger,  while  the 
herd  fled  in  the  opposite  direction.  On  the  bare  prairie, 
with  no  spot  of  refuge,  it  was  useless  to  try  to  escape, 
and  the  hunter,  with  reloaded  rifle,  waited  until  the  bull 
was  not  far  off,  then  drew  up  his  weapon  and  fired.  Either 
he  was  nervous,  or  the  bull  at  the  moment  bounded  over 
some  obstacle,  for  the  ball  went  a  little  wild ;  neverthe- 
less, by  good  luck,  it  broke  a  fore-leg,  and  the  great  beast 
came  crashing  to  the  earth,  and  was  slain  before  it  could 
struggle  to  its  feet. 

Two  days  after  this  event,  a  war  party  of  Comanches 
swept  down  along  the  river.  They  " jumped"  a  neigh- 
boring camp,  killing  one  man  and  wounding  two  more, 
and  at  the  same  time  ran  off  all  but  three  of  the  horses 
belonging  to  our  eight  adventurers.  With  the  remaining 
three  horses  and  one  wagon  they  set  out  homeward.  The 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.    245 

march  was  hard  and  tedious  ;  they  lost  their  way  and  were 
in  jeopardy  from  quicksands  and  cloudbursts  ;  they  suf- 
fered from  thirst  and  cold,  their  shoes  gave  out,  and  their 
feet  were  lamed  by  cactus  spines.  At  last  they  reached 
Fort  Griffen  in  safety,  and  great  was  their  ravenous  -re- 
joicing when  they  procured  some  bread — for  during  the 
final  fortnight  of  the  hunt  they  had  been  without  flour  or 
vegetables  of  any  kind,  or  even  coffee,  and  had  subsisted 
on  fresh  meat  "  straight."  Nevertheless,  it  was  a  very 
healthy,  as  well  as  a  very  pleasant  and  exciting  experience  ; 
and  I  doubt  if  any  of  those  who  took  part  in  it  will  ever 
forget  their  great  buffalo-hunt  on  the  Brazos. 

My  friend,  Gen.  W.  H.  Walker,  of  Virginia,  had  an 
experience  in  the  early  '50*5  with  buffaloes  on  the  upper 
Arkansas  River,  which  gives  some  idea  of  their  enormous 
numbers  at  that  time.  He  was  camped  with  a  scouting 
party  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  had  gone  out  to  try  to 
shoot  some  meat.  There  were  many  buffaloes  in  sight, 
scattered,  according  to  their  custom,  in  large  bands.  When 
he  was  a  mile  or  two  away  from  the  river  a  dull  roaring 
sound  in  the  distance  attracted  his  attention,  and  he  saw 
that  a  herd  of  buffalo  /ar  to  the  south,  away  from  the  river, 
had  been  stampeded  and  was  running  his  way.  He  knew 
that  if  he  was  caught  in  the  open  by  the  stampeded  herd 
his  chance  for  life  would  be  small,  and  at  once  ran  for  the 
river.  By  desperate  efforts  he  reached  the  breaks  in  the 
sheer  banks  just  as  the  buffaloes  reached  them,  and  got 
into  a  position  of  safety  on  the  pinnacle  of  a  little  bluff. 
From  this  point  of  vantage  he  could  see  the  entire  plain. 
To  the  very  verge  of  the  horizon  the  brown  masses  of  the 


246  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

buffalo  bands  showed  through  the  dust  clouds,  coming  on 
with  a  thunderous  roar  like  that  of  surf.  Camp  was  a  mile 
away,  and  the  stampede  luckily  passed  to  one  side  of  it. 
Watching  his  chance  he  finally  dodged  back  to  the  tent, 
and  all  that  afternoon  watched  the  immense  masses  of 
buffalo,  as  band  after  band  tore  to  the  brink  of  the  bluffs 
on  one  side,  raced  down  them,  rushed  through  the  water, 
up  the  bluffs  on  the  other  side,  and  again  off  over  the 
plain,  churning  the  sandy,  shallow  stream  into  a  ceaseless 
tumult.  When  darkness  fell  there  was  no  apparent 
decrease  in  the  numbers  that  were  passing,  and  all  through 
that  night  the  continuous  roar  showed  that  the  herds  were 
still  threshing  across  the  river.  Towards  dawn  the  sound 
at  last  ceased,  and  General  Walker  arose  somewhat  irri- 
tated, as  he  had  reckoned  on  killing  an  ample  supply  of 
meat,  and  he  supposed  that  there  would  be  now  no  bison 
left  south  of  the  river.  To  his  astonishment,  when  he 
strolled  up  on  the  bluffs  and  looked  over  the  plain,  it  was 
still  covered  far  and  wide  with  groups  of  buffalo,  grazing 
quietly.  Apparently  there  were  as  many  on  that  side  as 
ever,  in  spite  of  the  many  scores  of  thousands  that  must 
have  crossed  over  the  river  during  the  stampede  of  the 
afternoon  and  night.  The  barren-ground  caribou  is  the 
only  American  animal  which  is  now  ever  seen  in  such 
enormous  herds. 

In  1862  Mr.  Clarence  King,  while  riding  along  the 
overland  trail  through  western  Kansas,  passed  through  a 
great  buffalo  herd,  and  was  himself  injured  in  an  encounter 
with  a  bull.  The  great  herd  was  then  passing  north,  and 
Mr.  King  reckoned  that  it  must  have  covered  an  area  nearly 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.    247 

seventy  miles  by  thirty  in  extent ;  the  figures  representing 
his  rough  guess,  made  after  travelling  through  the  herd 
crosswise,  and  upon  knowing  how  long  it  took  to  pass  a 
given  point  going  northward.  This  great  herd  of  course 
was  not  a  solid  mass  of  buffaloes  ;  it  consisted  of  innumer- 
able bands  of  every  size,  dotting  the  prairie  within  the 
limits  given.  Mr.  King  was  mounted  on  a  somewhat 
unmanageable  horse.  On  one  occasion  in  following  a  band 
he  wounded  a  large  bull,  and  became  so  wedged  in  by  the 
maddened  animals  that  he  was  unable  to  avoid  the  charge 
of  the  bull,  which  was  at  its  last  gasp.  Coming  straight 
toward  him  it  leaped  into  the  air  and  struck  the  afterpart 
of  the  saddle  full  with  its  massive  forehead.  The  horse 
was  hurled  to  the  ground  with  a  broken  back,  and  King's 
leg  was  likewise  broken,  while  the  bull  turned  a  complete 
somerset  over  them  and  never  rose  again. 

In  the  recesses  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  from  Colorado 
northward  through  Alberta,  and  in  the  depths  of  the  sub- 
arctic forest  beyond  the  Saskatchewan,  there  have  always 
been  found  small  numbers  of  the  bison,  locally  called  the 
mountain  buffalo  and  wood  buffalo  ;  often  indeed  the  old 
hunters  term  these  animals  "  bison,"  although  they  never 
speak  of  the  plains  animals  save  as  buffalo.  They  form  a 
slight  variety  of  what  was  formerly  the  ordinary  plains 
bison,  intergrading  with  it  ;  on  the  whole  they  are  darker 
in  color,  with  longer,  thicker  hair,  and  in  consequence 
with  the  appearance  of  being  heavier-bodied  and  shorter- 
legged.  They  have  been  sometimes  spoken  of  as  forming 
a  separate  species  ;  but,  judging  from  my  own  limited 
experience,  and  from  a  comparison  of  the  many  hides  I 


248  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

have  seen,  I  think  they  are  really  the  same  animal,  many 
individuals  of  the  two  so-called  varieties  being  quite 
indistinguishable.  In  fact  the  only  moderate-sized  herd 
of  wild  bison  in  existence  to-day,  the  protected  herd  in  the 
Yellowstone  Park,  is  composed  of  animals  intermediate  in 
habits  and  coat  between  the  mountain  and  plains  varieties 
— as  were  all  the  herds  of  the  Bighorn,  Big  Hole,  Upper 
Madison,  and  Upper  Yellowstone  valleys. 

However,  the  habitat  of  these  wood  and  mountain 
bison  yielded  them  shelter  from  hunters  in  a  way  that  the 
plains  never  could,  and  hence  they  have  always  been 
harder  to  kill  in  the  one  place  than  in  the  other ;  for 
precisely  the  same  reasons  that  have  held  good  with  the 
elk,  which  have  been  completely  exterminated  from  the 
plains,  while  still  abundant  in  many  of  the  forest  fastnesses 
of  the  Rockies.  Moreover,  the  bison's  dull  eyesight  is 
no  especial  harm  in  the  woods,  while  it  is  peculiarly  hurtful 
to  the  safety  of  any  beast  on  the  plains,  where  eyesight 
avails  more  than  any  other  sense,  the  true  game  of  the 
plains  being  the  prong-buck,  the  most  keen-sighted  of 
American  animals.  On  the  other  hand  the  bison's  hearing, 
of  little  avail  on  the  plains,  is  of  much  assistance  in  the 
woods ;  and  its  excellent  nose  helps  equally  in  both  places. 

Though  it  was  always  more  difficult  to  kill  the  bison 
of  the  forests  and  mountains  than  the  bison  of  the  prairie, 
yet  now  that  the  species  is,  in  its  wild  state,  hovering  on 
the  brink  of  extinction,  the  difficulty  is  immeasurably 
increased.  A  merciless  and  terrible  process  of  natural 
selection,  in  which  the  agents  were  rifle-bearing  hunters, 
has  left  as  the  last  survivors  in  a  hopeless  struggle  for 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.   249 

existence  only  the  wariest  of  the  bison  and  those  gifted 
with  the  sharpest  senses.  That  this  was  true  of  the  last 
lingering  individuals  that  survived  the  great  slaughter  on 
the  plains  is  well  shown  by  Mr.  Hornaday  in  his  graphic 
account  of  his  campaign  against  the  few  scattered  buffalo 
which  still  lived  in  1886  between  the  Missouri  and  the 
Yellowstone,  along  the  Big  Dry.  The  bison  of  the  plains 
and  the  prairies  have  now  vanished  ;  and  so  few  of  their 
brethren  of  the  mountains  and  the  northern  forests  are  left, 
that  they  can  just  barely  be  reckoned  among  American 
game ;  but  whoever  is  so  fortunate  as  to  find  any  of  these 
animals  must  work  his  hardest,  and  show  all  his  skill  as  a 
hunter  if  he  wishes  to  get  one. 

In  the  fall  of  1889  I  heard  that  a  very  few  bison  were 
still  left  around  the  head  of  Wisdom  River.  Thither  I 
went  and  hunted  faithfully  ;  there  was  plenty  of  game  of 
other  kind,  but  of  bison  not  a  trace  did  we  see.  Never- 
theless a  few  days  later  that  same  year  I  came  across  these 
great  wild  cattle  at  a  time  when  I  had  no  idea  of  seeing 
them. 

It  was,  as  nearly  as  we  could  tell,  in  Idaho,  just  south 
of  the  Montana  boundary  line,  and  some  twenty-five  miles 
west  of  the  line  of  Wyoming.  We  were  camped  high 
among  the  mountains,  with  a  small  pack-train.  On  the 
day  in  question  we  had  gone  out  to  find  moose,  but  had 
seen  no  sign  of  them,  and  had  then  begun  to  climb  over 
the  higher  peaks  with  an  idea  of  getting  sheep.  The  old 
hunter  who  was  with  me  was,  very  fortunately,  suffering 
from  rheumatism,  and  he  therefore  carried  a  long  staff 
instead  of  his  rifle  ;  I  say  fortunately,  for  if  he  had  carried 


250  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

his  rifle  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  stop  his  firing  at 
such  game  as  bison,  nor  would  he  have  spared  the  cows 
and  calves. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  we  crossed  a  low, 
rocky  ridge,  above  timber  line,  and  saw  at  our  feet  a  basin 
or  round  valley  of  singular  beauty.  Its  walls  were  formed 
by  steep  mountains.  At  its  upper  end  lay  a  small  lake, 
bordered  on  one  side  by  a  meadow  of  emerald  green. 
The  lake's  other  side  marked  the  edge  of  the  frowning 
pine  forest  which  filled  the  rest  of  the  valley,  and  hung 
high  on  the  sides  of  the  gorge  which  formed  its  outlet. 
Beyond  the  lake  the  ground  rose  in  a  pass  evidently  much 
frequented  by  game  in  bygone  days,  their  trails  lying 
along  it  in  thick  zigzags,  each  gradually  fading  out  after 
a  few  hundred  yards,  and  then  starting  again  in  a  little 
different  place,  as  game  trails  so  often  seem  to  do. 

We  bent  our  steps  towards  these  trails,  and  no  sooner 
had  we  reached  the  first  than  the  old  hunter  bent  over  it 
with  a  sharp  exclamation  of  wonder.  There  in  the  dust 
were  the  unmistakable  hoof-marks  of  a  small  band  of 
bison,  apparently  but  a  few  hours  old.  They  were  headed 
towards  the  lake.  There  had  been  a  half  a  dozen  ani- 
mals in  the  party ;  one  a  big  bull,  and  two  calves. 

We  immediately  turned  and  followed  the  trail.  I  tied 
down  to  the  little  lake,  where  the  beasts  had  spread 
and  grazed  on  the  tender,  green  blades,  and  had  drunk 
their  fill.  The  footprints  then  came  together  again, 
showing  where  the  animals  had  gathered  and  walked  off 
in  single  file  to  the  forest.  Evidently  they  had  come  to 
the  pool  in  the  early  morning,  walking  over  the  game 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.    251 

pass  from  some  neighboring  valley,  and  after  drinking 
and  feeding  had  moved  into  the  pine  forest  to  find  some 
spot  for  their  noontide  rest. 

It  was  a  very  still  day,  and  there  were  nearly  three 
hours  of  daylight  left.  Without  a  word  my  silent  com- 
panion, who  had  been  scanning  the  whole  country  with 
hawk-eyed  eagerness,  besides  scrutinizing  the  sign  on  his 
hands  and  knees,  took  the  trail,  motioning  me  to  follow. 
In  a  moment  we  entered  the  woods,  breathing  a  sigh  of 
relief  as  we  did  so ;  for  while  in  the  meadow  we  could 
never  tell  that  the  buffalo  might  not  see  us,  if  they  hap- 
pened to  be  lying  in  some  place  with  a  commanding 
lookout. 

The  old  hunter  was  thoroughly  roused,  and  he  showed 
himself  a  very  skilful  tracker.  We  were  much  favored 
by  the  character  of  the  forest,  which  was  rather  open,  and 
in  most  places  free  from  undergrowth  and  down  timber. 
As  in  most  Rocky  Mountain  forests  the  timber  was  small, 
not  only  as  compared  to  the  giant  trees  of  the  groves  of 
the  Pacific  coast,  but  as  compared  to  the  forests  of  the 
northeast.  The  ground  was  covered  with  pine  needles 
and  soft  moss,  so  that  it  was  not  difficult  to  walk  noise- 
lessly. Once  or  twice  when  I  trod  on  a  small  dry  twig, 
or  let  the  nails  in  my  shoes  clink  slightly  against  a  stone, 
the  hunter  turned  to  me  with  a  frown  of  angry  impatience  ; 
but  as  he  walked  slowly,  continually  halting  to  look  ahead, 
as  well  as  stooping  over  to  examine  the  trail,  I  did  not 
find  it  very  difficult  to  move  silently.  I  kept  a  little  be- 
hind him,  and  to  one  side,  save  when  he  crouched  to  take 
advantage  of  some  piece  of  cover,  and  I  crept  in  his  foot- 


252  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

steps.  I  did  not  look  at  the  trail  at  all,  but  kept  watching 
ahead,  hoping  at  any  moment  to  see  the  game. 

It  was  not  very  long  before  we  struck  their  day  beds, 
which  were  made  on  a  knoll,  where  the  forest  was  open 
and  where  there  was  much  down  timber.  After  leaving 
the  day  beds  the  animals  had  at  first  fed  separately  around 
the  grassy  base  and  sides  of  the  knoll,  and  had  then  made 
off  in  their  usual  single  file,  going  straight  to  a  small  pool 
in  the  forest.  After  drinking  they  had  left  this  pool,  and 
travelled  down  towards  the  gorge  at  the  mouth  of  the 
basin,  the  trail  leading  along  the  sides  of  the  steep  hill, 
which  were  dotted  by  open  glades ;  while  the  roar  of  the 
cataracts  by  which  the  stream  was  broken  ascended  from 
below.  Here  we  moved  with  redoubled  caution,  for  the 
sign  had  grown  very  fresh  and  the  animals  had  once  more 
scattered  and  begun  feeding.  When  the  trail  led  across 
the  glades  we  usually  skirted  them  so  as  to  keep  in  the 
timber. 

At  last,  on  nearing  the  edge  of  one  of  these  glades  we 
saw  a  movement  among  the  young  trees  on  the  other  side, 
not  fifty  yards  away.  Peering  through  the  safe  shelter 
yielded  by  some  thick  evergreen  bushes,  we  speedily  made 
out  three  bison,  a  cow,  a  calf,  and  a  yearling,  grazing 
greedily  on  the  other  side  of  the  glade,  under  the  fringing 
timber ;  all  with  their  heads  up  hill.  Soon  another  cow 
and  calf  stepped  out  after  them.  I  did  not  wish  to  shoot, 
waiting  for  the  appearance  of  the  big  bull  which  I  knew 
was  accompanying  them. 

So  for  several  minutes  I  watched  the  great,  clumsy, 
shaggy  beasts,  as  all  unconscious  they  grazed  in  the  open 


The  Bison  or  American  Buffalo.   253 

glade.  Behind  them  rose  the  dark  pines.  At  the  left  of 
the  glade  the  ground  fell  away  to  form  the  side  of  a 
chasm  ;  down  in  its  depths  the  cataracts  foamed  and 
thundered  ;  beyond,  the  huge  mountains  towered,  their 
crests  crimsoned  by  the  sinking  sun.  Mixed  with  the 
eager  excitement  of  the  hunter  was  a  certain  half  mel- 
ancholy feeling  as  I  gazed  on  these  bison,  themselves 
part  of  the  last  remnant  of  a  doomed  and  nearly  vanished 
race.  Few,  indeed,  are  the  men  who  now  have,  or  ever- 
more shall  have,  the  chance  of  seeing  the  mightiest  of 
American  beasts,  in  all  his  wild  vigor,  surrounded  by  the 
tremendous  desolation  of  his  far-off  mountain  home. 

At  last,  when  I  had  begun  to  grow  very  anxious  lest 
the  others  should  take  alarm,  the  bull  likewise  appeared 
on  the  edge  of  the  glade,  and  stood  with  outstretched 
head,  scratching  his  throat  against  a  young  tree,  which 
shook  violently.  I  aimed  low,  behind  his  shoulder,  and 
pulled  trigger.  At  the  crack  of  the  rifle  all  the  bison, 
without  the  momentary  halt  of  terror-struck  surprise  so 
common  among  game,  turned  and  raced  off  at  headlong 
speed.  The  fringe  of  young  pines  beyond  and  below  the 
glade  cracked  and  swayed  as  if  a  whirlwind  were  passing, 
and  in  another  moment  they  reached  the  top  of  a  very 
steep  incline,  thickly  strewn  with  boulders  and  dead  tim- 
ber. Down  this  they  plunged  with  reckless  speed  ;  their 
surefootedness  was  a  marvel  in  such  seemingly  unwieldy 
beasts.  A  column  of  dust  obscured  their  passage,  and 
under  its  cover  they  disappeared  in  the  forest ;  but  the 
trail  of  the  bull  was  marked  by  splashes  of  frothy  blood, 
and  we  followed  it  at  a  trot.  Fifty  yards  beyond  the 


254  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

border  of  the  forest  we  found  the  stark  black  body 
stretched  motionless.  He  was  a  splendid  old  bull,  still  in 
his  full  vigor,  with  large,  sharp  horns,  and  heavy  mane 
and  glossy  coat ;  and  I  felt  the  most  exulting  pride  as  I 
handled  and  examined  him  ;  for  I  had  procured  a  trophy 
such  as  can  fall  henceforth  to  few  hunters  indeed. 

It  was  too  late  to  dress  the  beast  that  evening ;  so, 
after  taking  out  the  tongue  and  cutting  off  enough  meat 
for  supper  and  breakfast,  we  scrambled  down  to  near  the 
torrent,  and  after  some  search  found  a  good  spot  for 
camping.  Hot  and  dusty  from  the  day's  hard  tramp,  I 
undressed  and  took  a  plunge  in  the  stream,  the  icy  water 
making  me  gasp.  Then,  having  built  a  slight  lean-to  of 
brush,  and  dragged  together  enough  dead  timber  to  burn 
all  night,  we  cut  long  alder  twigs,  sat  down  before  some 
embers  raked  apart,  and  grilled  and  ate  our  buffalo  meat 
with  the  utmost  relish.  Night  had  fallen  ;  a  cold  wind 
blew  up  the  valley ;  the  torrent  roared  as  it  leaped  past 
us,  and  drowned  our  words  as  we  strove  to  talk  over  our 
adventures  and  success  ;  while  the  flame  of  the  fire 
flickered  and  danced,  lighting  up  with  continual  vivid 
flashes  the  gloom  of  the  forest  round  about. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

THE  BLACK  BEAR. 

NEXT  to  the  whitetail  deer  the  black  bear  is  the 
commonest  and  most  widely  distributed  of 
American  big  game.  It  is  still  found  quite  plen- 
tifully in  northern  New  England,  in  the  Adirondacks, 
Catskills,  and  along  the  entire  length  of  the  Alleghanies, 
as  well  as  in  the  swamps  and  canebrakes  of  the  southern 
States.  It  is  also  common  in  the  great  forests  of  northern 
Michigan,  Wisconsin,  and  Minnesota,  and  throughout  the 
Rocky  Mountains  and  the  timbered  ranges  of  the  Pacific 
coast.  In  the  East  it  has  always  ranked  second  only  to 
the  deer  among  the  beasts  of  chase.  The  bear  and  the 
buck  were  the  staple  objects  of  pursuit  of  all  the  old 
hunters.  They  were  more  plentiful  than  the  bison  and 
elk  even  in  the  long  vanished  days  when  these  two  great 
monarchs  of  the  forest  still  ranged  eastward  to  Virginia 
and  Pennsylvania.  The  wolf  and  the  cougar  were  always 
too  scarce  and  too  shy  to  yield  much  profit  to  the  hunter. 
The  black  bear  is  a  timid,  cowardly  animal,  and  usually 
a  vegetarian,  though  it  sometimes  preys  on  the  sheep,  hogs, 
and  even  cattle  of  the  settler,  and  is  very  fond  of  raiding 

255 


256  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

his  corn  and  melons.  Its  meat  is  good  and  its  fur  often 
valuable  ;  and  in  its  chase  there  is  much  excitement,  and 
occasionally  a  slight  spice  of  danger,  just  enough  to 
render  it  attractive  ;  so  it  has  always  been  eagerly  fol- 
lowed. Yet  it  still  holds  its  own,  though  in  greatly 
diminished  numbers,  in  the  more  thinly  settled  portions 
of  the  country.  One  of  the  standing  riddles  of  American 
zoology  is  the  fact  that  the  black  bear,  which  is  easier 
killed  and  less  prolific  than  the  wolf,  should  hold  its  own 
in  the  land  better  than  the  latter,  this  being  directly  the 
reverse  of  what  occurs  in  Europe,  where  the  brown  bear 
is  generally  exterminated  before  the  wolf. 

In  a  few  wild  spots  in  the  East,  in  northern  Maine 
for  instance,  here  and  there  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
upper  Great  Lakes,  in  the  east  Tennessee  and  Kentucky 
mountains  and  the  swamps  of  Florida  and  Mississippi, 
there  still  lingers  an  occasional  representative  of  the  old 
wilderness  hunters.  These  men  live  in  log-cabins  in  the 
wilderness.  They  do  their  hunting  on  foot,  occasionally 
with  the  help  of  a  single  trailing  dog.  In  Maine  they  are 
as  apt  to  kill  moose  and  caribou  as  bear  and  deer ;  but 
elsewhere  the  two  last,  with  an  occasional  cougar  or  wolf, 
are  the  beasts  of  chase  which  they  follow.  Nowadays  as 
these  old  hunters  die  there  is  no  one  to  take  their  places, 
though  there  are  still  plenty  of  backwoods  settlers  in  all  of 
the  regions  named  who  do  a  great  deal  of  hunting  and 
trapping.  Such  an  old  hunter  rarely  makes  his  appear- 
ance at  the  settlements  except  to  dispose  of  his  peltry  and 
hides  in  exchange  for  cartridges  and  provisions,  and  he 
leads  a  life  of  such  lonely  isolation  as  to  insure  his  indi- 


The  Black  Bear.  257 

vidual  characteristics  developing  into  peculiarities.  Most 
of  the  wilder  districts  in  the  eastern  States  still  preserve 
memories  of  some  such  old  hunter  who  lived  his  long  life 
alone,  waging  ceaseless  warfare  on  the  vanishing  game, 
whose  oddities,  as  well  as  his  courage,  hardihood,  and 
woodcraft,  are  laughingly  remembered  by  the  older  set- 
tlers, and  who  is  usually  best  known  as  having  killed  the 
last  wolf  or  bear  or  cougar  ever  seen  in  the  locality. 

Generally  the  weapon  mainly  relied  on  by  these  old 
hunters  is  the  rifle  ;  and  occasionally  some  old  hunter  will 
be  found  even  to  this  day  who  uses  a  muzzle  loader,  such 
as  Kit  Carson  carried  in  the  middle  of  the  century.  There 
are  exceptions  to  this  rule  of  the  rifle  however.  In  the 
years  after  the  Civil  War  one  of  the  many  noted  hunters  of 
southwest  Virginia  and  east  Tennessee  was  Wilbur  Waters, 
sometimes  called  The  Hunter  of  White  Top.  He  often 
killed  black  bear  with  a  knife  and  dogs.  He  spent  all  his 
life  in  hunting  and  was  very  successful,  killing  the  last 
gang  of  wolves  to  be  found  in  his  neighborhood  ;  and  he 
slew  innumerable  bears,  with  no  worse  results  to  himself 
than  an  occasional  bite  or  scratch. 

In  the  southern  States  the  planters  living  in  the  wilder 
regions  have  always  been  in  the  habit  of  following  the 
black  bear  with  horse  and  hound,  many  of  them  keeping 
regular  packs  of  bear  hounds.  Such  a  pack  includes  not 
only  pure-bred  hounds,  but  also  cross-bred  animals,  and 
some  sharp,  agile,  hard-biting  fierce  dogs  and  terriers. 
They  follow  the  bear  and  bring  him  to  bay  but  do  not  try  to 
kill  him,  although  there  are  dogs  of  the  big  fighting  breeds 
which  can  readily  master  a  black  bear  if  loosed  at  him 


258  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

three  or  four  at  a  time  ;  but  the  dogs  of  these  southern 
bear-hound  packs  are  not  fitted  for  such  work,  and  if  they 
try  to  close  with  the  bear  he  is  certain  to  play  havoc  with 
them,  disembowelling  them  with  blows  of  his  paws  or 
seizing  them  in  his  arms  and  biting  through  their  spines 
or  legs.  The  riders  follow  the  hounds  through  the  cane- 
brakes,  and  also  try  to  make  cutoffs  and  station  themselves 
at  open  points  where  they  think  the  bear  will  pass,  so  that 
they  may  get  a  shot  at  him.  The  weapons  used  are  rifles, 
shotguns,  and  occasionally  revolvers. 

Sometimes,  however,  the  hunter  uses  the  knife.  Gen- 
eral Wade  Hampton,  who  has  probably  killed  more  black 
bears  than  any  other  man  living  in  the  United  States, 
frequently  used  the  knife,  slaying  thirty  or  forty  with  this 
weapon.  His  plan  was,  when  he  found  that  the  dogs  had 
the  bear  at  bay,  to  walk  up  close  and  cheer  them  on.  They 
would  instantly  seize  the  bear  in  a  body,  and  he  would 
then  rush  in  and  stab  it  behind  the  shoulder,  reaching  over 
so  as  to  inflict  the  wound  on  the  opposite  side  from  that 
where  he  stood.  He  escaped  scathless  from  all  these 
encounters  save  one,  in  which  he  was  rather  severely  torn 
in  the  forearm.  Many  other  hunters  have  used  the  knife, 
but  perhaps  none  so  frequently  as  he  ;  for  he  was  always 
fond  of  steel,  as  witness  his  feats  with  the  "  white  arm  " 
during  the  Civil  War. 

General  Hampton  always  hunted  with  large  packs  of 
hounds,  managed  sometimes  by  himself  and  sometimes  by 
his  negro  hunters.  He  occasionally  took  out  forty  dogs 
at  a  time.  He  found  that  all  his  dogs  together  could  not 
kill  a  big  fat  bear,  but  they  occasionally  killed  three-year- 


The  Black  Bear.  259 

olds,  or  lean  and  poor  bears.  During  the  course  of  his 
life  he  has  himself  killed,  or  been  in  at  the  death  of,  five 
hundred  bears,  at  least  two  thirds  of  them  falling  by  his 
own  hand.  In  the  years  just  before  the  war  he  had  on 
one  occasion,  in  Mississippi,  killed  sixty-eight  bears  in  five 
months.  Once  he  killed  four  bears  in  a  day  ;  at  another 
time  three,  and  frequently  two.  The  two  largest  bears 
he  himself  killed  weighed,  respectively,  408  and  410 
pounds.  They  were  both  shot  in  Mississippi.  But  he 
saw  at  least  one  bear  killed  which  was  much  larger  than 
either  of  these.  These  figures  were  taken  down  at  the 
time,  when  the  animals  were  actually  weighed  on  the 
scales.  Most  of  his  hunting  for  bear  was  done  in  north- 
ern Mississippi,  where  one  of  his  plantations  was  situated, 
near  Greenville.  During  the  half  century  that  he  hunted, 
on  and  off,  in  this  neighborhood,  he  knew  of  two  instances 
where  hunters  were  fatally  wounded  in  the  chase  of  the 
black  bear.  Both  of  the  men  were  inexperienced,  one 
being  a  raftsman  who  came  down  the  river,  and  the  other 
a  man  from  Vicksburg.  He  was  not  able  to  learn  the 
particulars  in  the  last  case,  but  the  raftsman  came  too 
close  to  a  bear  that  was  at  bay,  and  it  broke  through  the 
dogs,  rushed  at  and  overthrew  him,  then  lying  on  him,  it 
bit  him  deeply  in  the  thigh,  through  the  femoral  artery, 
so  that  he  speedily  bled  to  death. 

But  a  black  bear  is  not  usually  a  formidable  opponent, 
and  though  he  will  sometimes  charge  home  he  is  much 
more  apt  to  bluster  and  bully  than  actually  to  come  to 
close  quarters.  I  myself  have  but  once  seen  a  man  who 
had  been  hurt  by  one  of  these  bears.  This  was  an  Indian. 


260  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

He  had  come  on  the  beast  close  up  in  a  thick  wood,  and 
had  mortally  wounded  it  with  his  gun  ;  it  had  then  closed 
with  him,  knocking  the  gun  out  of  his  hand,  so  that  he 
was  forced  to  use  his  knife.  It  charged  him  on  all  fours, 
but  in  the  grapple,  when  it  had  failed  to  throw  him  down, 
it  raised  itself  on  its  hind  legs,  clasping  him  across  the 
shoulders  with  its  fore-paws.  Apparently  it  had  no  inten- 
tion of  hugging,  but  merely  sought  to  draw  him  within 
reach  of  his  jaws.  He  fought  desperately  against  this, 
using  the  knife  freely,  and  striving  to  keep  its  head  back  ; 
and  the  flow  of  blood  weakened  the  animal,  so  that  it 
finally  fell  exhausted,  before  being  able  dangerously  to 
injure  him.  But  it  had  bitten  his  left  arm  very  severely, 
and  its  claws  had  made  long  gashes  on  his  shoulders. 

Black  bears,  like  grislies,  vary  greatly  in  their  modes 
of  attack.  Sometimes  they  rush  in  and  bite  ;  and  again 
they  strike  with  their  fore-paws.  Two  of  my  cowboys 
were  originally  from  Maine,  where  I  knew  them  well. 
There  they  were  fond  of  trapping  bears,  and  caught  a 
good  many.  The  huge  steel  gins,  attached  by  chains  to 
heavy  clogs,  prevented  the  trapped  beasts  from  going 
far ;  and  when  found  they  were  always  tied  tight  round 
some  tree  or  bush,  and  usually  nearly  exhausted.  The 
men  killed  them  either  with  a  little  32-calibre  pistol  or  a 
hatchet.  But  once  did  they  meet  with  any  difficulty. 
On  this  occasion  one  of  them  incautiously  approached  a 
captured  bear  to  knock  it  on  the  head  with  his  hatchet, 
but  the  animal  managed  to  partially  untwist  itself,  and 
with  its  free  fore-arm  made  a  rapid  sweep  at  him  ;  he 
jumped  back  just  in  time,  the  bear's  claws  tearing  his 


The  Black  Bear.  261 

clothes — after  which  he  shot  it.  Bears  are  shy  and  have 
very  keen  noses  ;  they  are  therefore  hard  to  kill  by  fair 
hunting,  living,  as  they  generally  do,  in  dense  forests  or 
thick  brush.  They  are  easy  enough  to  trap,  however. 
Thus,  these  two  men,  though  they  trapped  so  many, 
never  but  once  killed  them  in  any  other  way.  On  this 
occasion  one  of  them,  in  the  winter,  found  in  a  great 
hollow  log  a  den  where  a  she  and  two  well-grown  cubs 
had  taken  up  their  abode,  and  shot  all  three  with  his  rifle 
as  they  burst  out. 

Where  they  are  much  hunted,  bear  become  purely 
nocturnal ;  but  in  the  wilder  forests  I  have  seen  them 
abroad  at  all  hours,  though  they  do  not  much  relish  the 
intense  heat  of  noon.  They  are  rather  comical  animals 
to  watch  feeding  and  going  about  the  ordinary  business 
of  their  lives.  Once  I  spent  half  an  hour  lying  at  the 
edge  of  a  wood  and  looking  at  a  black  bear  some  three 
hundred  yards  off  across  an  open  glade.  It  was  in  good 
stalking  country,  but  the  wind  was  unfavorable  and  I 
waited  for  it  to  shift — waited  too  long  as  it  proved,  for 
something  frightened  the  beast  and  he  made  off  before  I 
could  get  a  shot  at  him.  When  I  first  saw  him  he  was 
shuffling  along  and  rooting  in  the  ground,  so  that  he 
looked  like  a  great  pig.  Then  he  began  to  turn  over  the 
stones  and  logs  to  hunt  for  insects,  small  reptiles,  and 
the  like.  A  moderate-sized  stone  he  would  turn  over 
with  a  single  clap  of  his  paw,  and  then  plunge  his  nose 
down  into  the  hollow  to  gobble  up  the  small  creatures 
beneath  while  still  dazed  by  the  light.  The  big  logs  and 
rocks  he  would  tug  and  worry  at  with  both  paws  ;  once, 


262  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

over-exerting  his  clumsy  strength,  he  lost  his  grip  and 
rolled  clean  on  his  back.  Under  some  of  the  ,logs  he 
evidently  found  mice  and  chipmunks  ;  then,  as  soon  as 
the  log  was  overturned,  he  would  be  seen  jumping  about 
with  grotesque  agility,  and  making  quick  dabs  here  and 
there,  as  the  little,  scurrying  rodent  turned  and  twisted, 
until  at  last  he  put  his  paw  on  it  and  scooped  it  up  into  his 
mouth.  Sometimes,  probably  when  he  smelt  the  mice 
underneath,  he  would  cautiously  turn  the  log  over  with 
one  paw,  holding  the  other  lifted  and  ready  to  strike. 
Now  and  then  he  would  halt  and  sniff  the  air  in  every 
direction,  and  it  was  after  one  of  these  halts  that  he  sud- 
denly shuffled  off  into  the  woods. 

Black  bear  generally  feed  on  berries,  nuts,  insects, 
carrion,  and  the  like ;  but  at  times  they  take  to  killing 
very  large  animals.  In  fact,  they  are  curiously  irregular 
in  their  food.  They  will  kill  deer  if  they  can  get  at 
them ;  but  generally  the  deer  are  too  quick.  Sheep  and 
hogs  are  their  favorite  prey,  especially  the  latter,  for 
bears  seem  to  have  a  special  relish  for  pork.  Twice  I 
have  known  a  black  bear  kill  cattle.  Once  the  victim 
was  a  bull  which  had  got  mired,  and  which  the  bear  delib- 
erately proceeded  to  eat  alive,  heedless  of  the  bellows  of 
the  unfortunate  beast.  On  the  other  occasion,  a  cow 
was  surprised  and  slain  among  some  bushes  at  the  edge 
of  a  remote  pasture.  In  the  spring,  soon  after  the  long 
winter  sleep,  they  are  very  hungry,  and  are  especially 
apt  to  attack  large  beasts  at  this  time  ;  although  dur- 
ing the  very  first  days  of  their  appearance,  when  they 
are  just  breaking  their  fast,  they  eat  rather  sparingly, 


The  Black  Bear.  263 

and  by  preference  the  tender  shoots  of  green  grass 
and  other  herbs,  or  frogs  and  crayfish  ;  it  is  not  for  a 
week  or  two  that  they  seem  to  be  overcome  by  lean, 
ravenous  hunger.  They  will  even  attack  and  master 
that  formidable  fighter  the  moose,  springing  at  it  from 
an  ambush  as  it  passes — for  a  bull  moose  would  surely 
be  an  overmatch  for  one  of  them  if  fronted  fairly  in 
the  open.  An  old  hunter,  whom  I  could  trust,  told 
me  that  he  had  seen  in  the  snow  in  early  spring  the 
place  where  a  bear  had  sprung  at  two  moose,  which  were 
trotting  together ;  he  missed  his  spring,  and  the  moose 
got  off,  their  strides  after  they  settled  down  into  their 
pace  being  tremendous,  and  showing  how  thoroughly 
they  were  frightened.  Another  time  he  saw  a  bear  chase 
a  moose  into  a  lake,  where  it  waded  out  a  little  distance, 
and  then  turned  to  bay,  bidding  defiance  to  his  pursuer, 
the  latter  not  daring  to  approach  in  the  water.  I  have 
been  told — but  cannot  vouch  for  it — that  instances  have 
been  known  where  the  bear,  maddened  by  hunger,  has 
gone  in  on  a  moose  thus  standing  at  bay,  only  to  be 
beaten  down  under  the  water  by  the  terrible  fore-hoofs  of 
the  quarry,  and  to  yield  its  life  in  the  contest.  A  lumber- 
man told  me  that  he  once  saw  a  moose,  evidently  much 
startled,  trot  through  a  swamp,  and  immediately  afterwards 
a  bear  came  up  following  the  tracks.  He  almost  ran  into 
the  man,  and  was  evidently  not  in  a  good  temper,  for  he 
growled  and  blustered,  and  two  or  three  times  made  feints 
of  charging,  before  he  finally  concluded  to  go  off. 

Bears  will  occasionally  visit  hunters'  or  lumbermen's 
camps,  in  the  absence  of  the  owners,  and  play  sad  havoc 


264  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

with  all  that  therein  is,  devouring  everything  eatable, 
especially  if  sweet,  and  trampling  into  a  dirty  mess  what- 
ever they  do  not  eat.  The  black  bear  does  not  average 
more  than  a  third  the  size  of  the  grisly ;  but,  like  all  its 
kind,  it  varies  greatly  in  weight.  The  largest  I  myself 
ever  saw  weighed  was  in  Maine,  and  tipped  the  scale  at 
346  pounds ;  but  I  have  a  perfectly  authentic  record  of 
one  in  Maine  that  weighed  397,  and  my  friend,  Dr.  Hart 
Merriam,  tells  me  that  he  has  seen  several  in  the  Adiron- 
dacks  that  when  killed  weighed  about  350. 

I  have  myself  shot  but  one  or  two  black  bears,  and 
these  were  obtained  under  circumstances  of  no  special  in- 
terest, as  I  merely  stumbled  on  them  while  after  other 
game,  and  killed  them  before  they  had  a  chance  either  to 
run  or  show  fight 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

OLD  EPHRAIM,  THE  GRISLY  BEAR. 

THE  king  of  the  game  beasts  of  temperate  North 
America,  because  the  most  dangerous  to  the  hun- 
ter, is  the  grisly  bear  ;  known  to  the  few  remain- 
ing old-time  trappers  of  the  Rockies  and  the  Great  Plains, 
sometimes  as  "  Old  Ephraim  "  and  sometimes  as  "  Mocca- 
sin Joe  " — the  last  in  allusion  to  his  queer,  half-human 
footprints,  which   look  as  if    made  by  some    misshapen 
giant,  walking  in  moccasins. 

Bear  vary  greatly  in  size  and  color,  no  less  than  in  tem- 
per and  habits.  Old  hunters  speak  much  of  them  in  their 
endless  talks  over  the  camp  fires  and  in  the  snow-bound 
winter  huts.  They  insist  on  many  species  ;  not  merely 
the  black  and  the  grisly,  but  the  brown,  the  cinnamon,  the 
gray,  the  silver-tip,  and  others  with  names  known  only  in 
certain  localities,  such  as  the  range  bear,  the  roach-back, 
and  the  smut-face.  But,  in  spite  of  popular  opinion  to 
the  contrary,  most  old  hunters  are  very  untrustworthy  in 
dealing  with  points  of  natural  history.  They  usually  know 
only  so  much  about  any  given  game  animal  as  will  enable 
them  to  kill  it.  They  study  its  habits  solely  with  this  end 


266  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

in  view ;  and  once  slain  they  only  examine  it  to  see  about  its 
condition  and  fur.  With  rare  exceptions  they  are  quite 
incapable  of  passing  judgment  upon  questions  of  specific 
identity  or  difference.  When  questioned,  they  not  only 
advance  perfectly  impossible  theories  and  facts  in  support 
of  their  views,  but  they  rarely  even  agree  as  to  the  views 
themselves.  One  hunter  will  assert  that  the  true  grisly 
is  only  found  in  California,  heedless  of  the  fact  that  the 
name  was  first  used  by  Lewis  and  Clarke  as  one  of  the 
titles  they  applied  to  the  large  bears  of  the  plains  country 
round  the  Upper  Missouri,  a  quarter  of  a  century  before 
the  California  grisly  was  known  to  fame.  Another  hun- 
ter will  call  any  big  brindled  bear  a  grisly  no  matter  where 
it  is  found  ;  and  he  and  his  companions  will  dispute  by 
the  hour  as  to  whether  a  bear  of  large,  but  not  extreme, 
size  is  a  grisly  or  a  silver-tip.  In  Oregon  the  cinnamon 
bear  is  a  phase  of  the  small  black  bear  ;  in  Montana  it  is 
the  plains  variety  of  the  large  mountain  silver-tip.  I  have 
myself  seen  the  skins  of  two  bears  killed  on  the  upper 
waters  of  Tongue  River ;  one  was  that  of  a  male,  one  of  a 
female,  and  they  had  evidently  just  mated  ;  yet  one  was 
distinctly  a  "  silver-tip  "  and  the  other  a  "  cinnamon."  The 
skin  of  one  very  big  bear  which  I  killed  in  the  Bighorn 
has  proved  a  standing  puzzle  to  almost  all  the  old  hunters 
to  whom  I  have  showed  it ;  rarely  do  any  two  of  them 
agree  as  to  whether  it  is  a  grisly,  a  silver-tip,  a  cinnamon, 
or  a  "  smut-face."  Any  bear  with  unusually  long  hair  on 
the  spine  and  shoulders,  especially  if  killed  in  the  spring, 
when  the  fur  is  shaggy,  is  forthwith  dubbed  a  "  roach-back." 
The  average  sporting  writer  moreover  joins  with  the  more 


Old  Ephraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      267 

imaginative  members  of  the  "  old  hunter "  variety  in 
ascribing  wildly  various  traits  to  these  different  bears. 
One  comments  on  the  superior  prowess  of  the  roach- 
back  ;  the  explanation  being  that  a  bear  in  early  spring 
is  apt  to  be  ravenous  from  hunger.  The  next  insists  that 
the  California  grisly  is  the  only  really  dangerous  bear  ; 
while  another  stoutly  maintains  that  it  does  not  compare 
in  ferocity  with  what  he  calls  the  "  smaller  "  silver-tip  or 
cinnamon.  And  so  on,  and  so  on,  without  end.  All  of 
which  is  mere  nonsense. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  no  easy  task  to  determine  how  many 
species  or  varieties  of  bear  actually  do  exist  in  the  United 
States,  and  I  cannot  even  say  without  doubt  that  a  very 
large  set  of  skins  and  skulls  would  not  show  a  nearly  com- 
plete intergradation  between  the  most  widely  separated 
individuals.  However,  there  are  certainly  two  very  dis- 
tinct types,  which  differ  almost  as  widely  from  each  other 
as  a  wapiti  does  from  a  mule  deer,  and  which  exist  in  the 
same  localities  in  most  heavily  timbered  portions  of  the 
Rockies.  One  is  the  small  black  bear,  a  bear  which  will 
average  about  two  hundred  pounds  weight,  with  fine, 
glossy,  black  fur,  and  the  fore-claws  but  little  longer  than 
the  hinder  ones  ;  in  fact  the  hairs  of  the  fore-paw  often 
reach  to  their  tips.  This  bear  is  a  tree  climber.  It  is  the 
only  kind  found  east  of  the  great  plains,  and  it  is  also 
plentiful  in  the  forest-clad  portions  of  the  Rockies,  being 
common  in  most  heavily  timbered  tracts  throughout  the 
United  States.  The  other  is  the  grisly,  which  weighs 
three  or  four  times  as  much  as  the  black,  and  has  a  pelt  of 
coarse  hair,  which  is  in  color  gray,  grizzled,  or  brown  of 


268  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

various  shades.  It  is  not  a  tree  climber,  and  the  fore-claws 
are  very  long,  much  longer  than  the  hinder  ones.  It  is 
found  from  the  great  plains  west  of  the  Mississippi  to  the 
Pacific  coast.  This  bear  inhabits  indifferently  lowland  and 
mountain  ;  the  deep  woods,  and  the  barren  plains  where 
the  only  cover  is  the  stunted  growth  fringing  the  streams. 
These  two  types  are  very  distinct  in  every  way,  and  their 
differences  are  not  at  all  dependent  upon  mere  geographical 
considerations  ;  for  they  are  often  found  in  the  same  dis- 
trict. Thus  I  found  them  both  in  the  Bighorn  Mountains, 
each  type  being  in  extreme  form,  while  the  specimens  I  shot 
showed  no  trace  of  intergradation.  The  huge  grizzled, 
long-clawed  beast,  and  its  little  glossy-coated,  short-clawed, 
tree-climbing  brother  roamed  over  exactly  the  same  coun- 
try in  those  mountains  ;  but  they  were  as  distinct  in 
habits,  and  mixed  as  little  together  as  moose  and  caribou. 
On  the  other  hand,  when  a  sufficient  number  of  bears, 
from  widely  separated  regions  are  examined,  the  various 
distinguishing  marks  are  found  to  be  inconstant  and  to 
show  a  tendency — exactly  how  strong  I  cannot  say — to 
fade  into  one  another.  The  differentiation  of  the  two 
species  seems  to  be  as  yet  scarcely  completed  ;  there  are 
more  or  less  imperfect  connecting  links,  and  as  regards 
the  grisly  it  almost  seems  as  if  the  specific  characters  were 
still  unstable.  In  the  far  northwest,  in  the  basin  of 
the  Columbia,  the  "  black  "  bear  is  as  often  brown  as  any 
other  color ;  and  I  have  seen  the  skins  of  two  cubs,  one 
black  and  one  brown,  which  were  shot  when  following  the 
same  dam.  When  these  brown  bears  have  coarser  hair 
than  usual  their  skins  are  with  difficulty  to  be  distinguished 


Old  Rphraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      269 

from  those  of  certain  varieties  of  the  grisly.  Moreover, 
all  bears  vary  greatly  in  size  ;  and  I  have  seen  the  bodies 
of  very  large  black  or  brown  bears  with  short  fore-claws 
which  were  fully  as  heavy  as,  or  perhaps  heavier  than, 
some  small  but  full-grown  grislies  with  long  fore-claws. 
These  very  large  bears  with  short  claws  are  very  reluctant 
to  climb  a  tree  ;  and  are  almost  as  clumsy  about  it  as  is  a 
young  grisly.  Among  the  grislies  the  fur  varies  much 
in  color  and  texture  even  among  bears  of  the  same  locality  ; 
it  is  of  course  richest  in  the  deep  forest,  while  the  bears 
of  the  dry  plains  and  mountains  are  of  a  lighter,  more 
washed-out  hue. 

A  full  grown  grisly  will  usually  weigh  from  five  to  seven 
hundred  pounds  ;  but  exceptional  individuals  undoubtedly 
reach  more  than  twelve  hundredweight.  The  California 
bears  are  said  to  be  much  the  largest.  This  I  think  is  so, 
but  I  cannot  say  it  with  certainty — at  any  rate  I  have 
examined  several  skins  of  full-grown  Californian  bears 
which  were  no  larger  than  those  of  many  I  have  seen  from 
the  northern  Rockies.  The  Alaskan  bears,  particularly 
those  of  the  peninsula,  are  even  bigger  beasts  ;  the  skin  of 
one  which  I  saw  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Webster,  the 
taxidermist,  was  a  good  deal  larger  than  the  average  polar 
bear  skin  ;  and  the  animal  when  alive,  if  in  good  condition, 
could  hardly  have  weighed  less  than  1,400  pounds.*  Bears 
vary  wonderfully  in  weight,  even  to  the  extent  of  becoming 
half  as  heavy  again,  according  as  they  are  fat  or  lean  ;  in  this 
respect  they  are  more  like  hogs  than  like  any  other  animals. 

*  Both  this  huge  Alaskan  bear  and  the  entirely  distinct  bear  of  the  barren  grounds 
differ  widely  from  the  true  grisly,  at  least  in  their  extreme  forms. 


270  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

The  grisly  is  now  chiefly  a  beast  of  the  high  hills  and 
heavy  timber ;  but  this  is  merely  because  he  has  learned 
that  he  must  rely  on  cover  to  guard  him  from  man,  and 
has  forsaken  the  open  ground  accordingly.  In  old  days, 
and  in  one  or  two  very  out-of-the-way  places  almost  to  the 
present  time,  he  wandered  at  will  over  the  plains.  It  is  only 
the  wariness  born  of  fear  which  nowadays  causes  him  to 
cling  to  the  thick  brush  of  the  large  river-bottoms  through- 
out the  plains  country.  When  there  were  no  rifle-bearing 
hunters  in  the  land,  to  harass  him  and  make  him  afraid, 
he  roved  hither  and  thither  at  will,  in  burly  self-confidence. 
Then  he  cared  little  for  cover,  unless  as  a  weather-break, 
or  because  it  happened  to  contain  food  he  liked.  If  the 
humor  seized  him  he  would  roam  for  days  over  the  rolling 
or  broken  prairie,  searching  for  roots,  digging  up  gophers, 
or  perhaps  following  the  great  buffalo  herds  either  to  prey 
on  some  unwary  straggler  which  he  was  able  to  catch  at 
a  disadvantage  in  a  washout,  or  else  to  feast  on  the  car- 
casses of  those  which  died  by  accident.  Old  hunters, 
survivors  of  the  long-vanished  ages  when  the  vast  herds 
thronged  the  high  plains  and  were  followed  by  the  wild 
red  tribes,  and  by  bands  of  whites  who  were  scarcely  less 
savage,  have  told  me  that  they  often  met  bears  under 
such  circumstances  ;  and  these  bears  were  accustomed  to 
sleep  in  a  patch  of  rank  sage  bush,  in  the  niche  of  a  wash- 
out, or  under  the  lee  of  a  boulder,  seeking  their  food  abroad 
even  in  full  daylight.  The  bears  of  the  Upper  Missouri 
basin — which  were  so  light  in  color  that  the  early  explorers 
often  alluded  to  them  as  gray  or  even  as  "white  "  —were 
particularly  given  to  this  life  in  the  open.  To  this  day 


Old  Ephraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      271 

that  close  kinsman  of  the  grisly  known  as  the  bear  of  the 
barren  grounds  continues  to  lead  this  same  kind  of  life,  in 
the  far  north.  My  friend  Mr.  Rockhill,  of  Maryland,  who 
was  the  first  white  man  to  explore  eastern  Tibet,  describes 
the  large,  grisly-like  bear  of  those  desolate  uplands  as 
having  similar  habits. 

However,  the  grisly  is  a  shrewd  beast  and  shows  the 
usual  bear-like  capacity  for  adapting  himself  to  changed 
conditions.  He  has  in  most  places  become  a  cover-haunting 
animal,  sly  in  his  ways,  wary  to  a  degree,  and  clinging  to 
the  shelter  of  the  deepest  forests  in  the  mountains  and  of 
the  most  tangled  thickets  in  the  plains.  Hence  he  has 
held  his  own  far  better  than  such  game  as  the  bison  and 
elk.  He  is  much  less  common  than  formerly,  but  he  is  still 
to  be  found  throughout  most  of  his  former  range ;  save  of 
course  in  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  the  large  towns. 

In  most  places  the  grisly  hibernates,  or  as  old  hunters 
say  "holes  up, "  during  the  cold  season,  precisely  as  does 
the  black  bear  ;  but  as  with  the  latter  species,  those  animals 
which  live  farthest  south  spend  the  whole  year  abroad  in 
mild  seasons.  The  grisly  rarely  chooses  that  favorite  den 
of  his  little  black  brother,  a  hollow  tree  or  log,  for  his 
winter  sleep,  seeking  or  making  some  cavernous  hole  in 
the  ground  instead.  The  hole  is  sometimes  in  a  slight 
hillock  in  a  river  bottom,  but  more  often  on  a  hill-side,  and 
may  be  either  shallow  or  deep.  In  the  mountains  it  is 
generally  a  natural  cave  in  the  rock,  but  among  the  foot-hills 
and  on  the  plains  the  bear  usually  has  to  take  some 
hollow  or  opening,  and  then  fashion  it  into  a  burrow  to  his 
liking  with  his  big  digging  claws. 


272  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Before  the  cold  weather  sets  in  the  bear  begins  to  grow 
restless,  and  to  roam  about  seeking  for  a  good  place  in 
which  to  hole  up.  One  will  often  try  and  abandon  several 
caves  or  partially  dug-out  burrows  in  succession  before 
finding  a  place  to  its  taste.  It  always  endeavors  to  choose 
a  spot  where  there  is  little  chance  of  discovery  or  molesta- 
tion, taking  great  care  to  avoid  leaving  too  evident  trace 
of  its  work.  Hence  it  is  not  often  that  the  dens  are  found. 

Once  in  its  den  the  bear  passes  the  cold  months 
in  lethargic  sleep  ;  yet,  in  all  but  the  coldest  weather, 
and  sometimes  even  then,  its  slumber  is  but  light,  and  if 
disturbed  it  will  promptly  leave  its  den,  prepared  for 
fight  or  flight  as  the  occasion  may  require.  Many  times 
when  a  hunter  has  stumbled  on  the  winter  resting-place  of 
a  bear  and  has  left  it,  as  he  thought,  without  his  presence 
being  discovered,  he  has  returned  only  to  find  that  the 
crafty  old  fellow  was  aware  of  the  danger  all  the  time,  and 
sneaked  off  as  soon  as  the  coast  was  clear.  But  in  veiy 
cold  weather  hibernating  bears  can  hardly  be  wakened 
from  their  torpid  lethargy. 

The  length  of  time  a  bear  stays  in  its  den  depends  of 
course  upon  the  severity  of  the  season  and  the  latitude  and 
altitude  of  the  country.  In  the  northernmost  and  coldest 
regions  all  the  bears  hole  up,  and  spend  half  the  year  in  a 
state  of  lethargy  ;  whereas  in  the  south  only  the  she's  with 
young  and  the  fat  he-bears  retire  for  the  sleep,  and  these 
but  for  a  few  weeks,  and  only  if  the  season  is  severe. 

When  the  bear  first  leaves  its  den  the  fur  is  in  very  fine 
order,  but  it  speedily  becomes  thin  and  poor,  and  does  not 
recover  its  condition  until  the  fall.  Sometimes  the  bear 


Old  Ephraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      273 

does  not  betray  any  great  hunger  for  a  few  days  after  its 
appearance ;  but  in  a  short  while  it  becomes  ravenous. 
During  the  early  spring,  when  the  woods  are  still  entirely 
barren  and  lifeless,  while  the  snow  yet  lies  in  deep  drifts, 
the  lean,  hungry  brute,  both  maddened  and  weakened  by 
long  fasting,  is  more  of  a  flesh  eater  than  at  any  other 
time.  It  is  at  this  period  that  it  is  most  apt  to  turn  true 
beast  of  prey,  and  show  its  prowess  either  at  the  expense 
of  the  wild  game,  or  of  the  flocks  of  the  settler  and  the 
herds  of  the  ranchman.  Bears  are  very  capricious  in  this 
respect,  however.  Some  are  confirmed  game,  and  cattle- 
killers  ;  others  are  not ;  while  yet  others  either  are  or  are 
not  accordingly  as  the  freak  seizes  them,  and  their  ravages 
vary  almost  unaccountably,  both  with  the  season  and  the 
locality. 

Throughout  1889,  for  instance,  no  cattle,  so  far  as  I 
heard,  were  killed  by  bears  anywhere  near  my  range  on 
the  Little  Missouri  in  western  Dakota  ;  yet  I  happened  to 
know  that  during  that  same  season  the  ravages  of  the  bears 
among  the  herds  of  the  cowmen  in  the  Big  Hole  Basin,  in 
western  Montana,  were  very  destructive. 

In  the  spring  and  early  summer  of  1888,  the  bears 
killed  no  cattle  near  my  ranch  ;  but  in  the  late  summer 
and  early  fall  of  that  year  a  big  bear,  which  we  well  knew 
by  its  tracks,  suddenly  took  to  cattle-killing.  This  was  a 
brute  which  had  its  headquarters  on  some  very  large  brush 
bottoms  a  dozen  miles  below  my  ranch  house,  and  which 
ranged  to  and  fro  across  the  broken  country  flanking  the 
river  on  each  side.  It  began  just  before  berry  time,  but 
continued  its  career  of  destruction  long  after  the  wild  plums 


274  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

and  even  buffalo  berries  had  ripened.  I  think  that  what 
started  it  was  a  feast  on  a  cow  which  had  mired  and  died 
in  the  bed  of  the  creek ;  at  least  it  was  not  until  after  we 
found  that  it  had  been  feeding  at  the  carcass  and  had  eaten 
every  scrap,  that  we  discovered  traces  of  its  ravages  among 
the  livestock.  It  seemed  to  attack  the  animals  wholly 
regardless  of  their  size  and  strength  ;  its  victims  including 
a  large  bull  and  a  beef  steer,  as  well  as  cows,  yearlings, 
and  gaunt,  weak  trail  "  doughgies,"  which  had  been 
brought  in  very  late  by  a  Texas  cow- outfit — for  that  year 
several  herds  were  driven  up  from  the  overstocked, 
eaten-out,  and  drought-stricken  ranges  of  the  far  south. 
Judging  from  the  signs,  the  crafty  old  grisly,  as  cunning 
as  he  was  ferocious,  usually  lay  in  wait  for  the  cattle  when 
they  came  down  to  water,  choosing  some  thicket  of  dense 
underbrush  and  twisted  cottonwoods  through  which  they 
had  to  pass  before  reaching  the  sand  banks  on  the  river's 
brink.  Sometimes  he  pounced  on  them  as  they  fed  through 
the  thick,  low  cover  of  the  bottoms,  where  an  assailant 
could  either  lie  in  ambush  by  one  of  the  numerous  cattle 
trails,  or  else  creep  unobserved  towards  some  browsing 
beast.  When  within  a  few  feet  a  quick  rush  carried  him 
fairly  on  the  terrified  quarry  ;  and  though  but  a  clumsy 
animal  compared  to  the  great  cats,  the  grisly  is  far  quicker 
than  one  would  imagine  from  viewing  his  ordinary  lum- 
bering gait.  In  one  or  two  instances  the  bear  had  appar- 
ently grappled  with  his  victim  by  seizing  it  near  the  loins 
and  striking  a  disabling  blow  over  the  small  of  the  back ; 
in  at  least  one  instance  he  had  jumped  on  the  animal's  head, 
grasping  it  with  his  fore-paws,  while  with  his  fangs  he  tore 


GRISLY  KILLING  A  STEER. 


Old  Rpkraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      275 

open  the  throat  or  craunched  the  neck  bone.  Some  of  his 
victims  were  slain  far  from  the  river,  in  winding,  brushy 
coulies  of  the  Bad  Lands,  where  the  broken  nature  of  the 
ground  rendered  stalking  easy.  Several  of  the  ranchmen, 
angered  at  their  losses,  hunted  their  foe  eagerly,  but 
always  with  ill  success ;  until  one  of  them  put  poison  in  a 
carcass,  and  thus  at  last,  in  ignoble  fashion,  slew  the  cat- 
tle-killer. 

Mr.  Clarence  King  informs  me  that  he  was  once  eye- 
witness to  a  bear's  killing  a  steer,  in  California.  The  steer 
was  in  a  small  pasture,  and  the  bear  climbed  over,  partly 
breaking  down,  the  rails  which  barred  the  gateway.  The 
steer  started  to  run,  but  the  grisly  overtook  it  in  four  or 
five  bounds,  and  struck  it  a  tremendous  blow  on  the  flank 
with  one  paw,  knocking  several  ribs  clear  away  from  the 
spine,  and  killing  the  animal  outright  by  the  shock. 

Horses  no  less  than  horned  cattle  at  times  fall  victims 
to  this  great  bear,  which  usually  spring  on  them  from  the 
edge  of  a  clearing  as  they  graze  in  some  mountain  pasture, 
or  among  the  foot-hills  ;  and  there  is  no  other  animal  of 
which  horses  seem  so  much  afraid.  Generally  the  bear, 
whether  successful  or  unsuccessful  in  its  raids  on  cattle 
and  horses,  comes  off  unscathed  from  the  struggle  ;  but 
this  is  not  always  the  case,  and  it  has  much  respect  for 
the  hoofs  or  horns  of  its  should-be  prey.  Some  horses  do 
not  seem  to  know  how  to  fight  at  all ;  but  others  are  both 
quick  and  vicious,  and  prove  themselves  very  formidable 
foes,  lashing  out  behind,  and  striking  with  their  fore-hoofs. 
I  have  elsewhere  given  an  instance  of  a  stallion  which  beat 
off  a  bear,  breaking  its  jaw. 


2 76  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Quite  near  my  ranch,  once,  a  cowboy  in  my  employ 
found  unmistakable  evidence  of  the  discomfiture  of  a  bear 
by  a  long-horned  range  cow.  It  was  in  the  early  spring, 
and  the  cow  with  her  new-born  calf  was  in  a  brush- 
bordered  valley.  The  footprints  in  the  damp  soil  were  very 
plain,  and  showed  all  that  had  happened.  The  bear  had 
evidently  come  out  of  the  bushes  with  a  rush,  probably 
bent  merely  on  seizing  the  calf ;  and  had  slowed  up  when 
the  cow  instead  of  flying  faced  him.  He  had  then  begun 
to  walk  round  his  expected  dinner  in  a  circle,  the  cow 
fronting  him  and  moving  nervously  back  and  forth,  so  that 
her  sharp  hoofs  cut  and  trampled  the  ground.  Finally  she 
had  charged  savagely  ;  whereupon  the  bear  had  bolted  ; 
and,  whether  frightened  at  the  charge,  or  at  the  approach 
of  some  one,  he  had  not  returned. 

The  grisly  is  even  fonder  of  sheep  and  pigs  than  is 
its  smaller  black  brother.  Lurking  round  the  settler's 
house  until  after  nightfall,  it  will  vault  into  the  fold  or  sty, 
grasp  a  helpless,  bleating  fleece-bearer,  or  a  shrieking, 
struggling  member  of  the  bristly  brotherhood,  and  bundle 
it  out  over  the  fence  to  its  death.  In  carrying  its  prey  a 
bear  sometimes  holds  the  body  in  its  teeth,  walking  along 
on  all-fours  and  dragging  it  as  a  wolf  does.  Sometimes, 
however,  it  seizes  an  animal  in  its  forearms  or  in  one  of 
them,  and  walks  awkwardly  on  three  legs  or  two,  adopting 
this  method  in  lifting  and  pushing  the  body  over  rocks 
and  down  timber. 

When  a  grisly  can  get  at  domestic  animals  it  rarely 
seeks  to  molest  game,  the  former  being  far  less  wary  and 
more  helpless.  Its  heaviness  and  clumsiness  do  not  fit  it 


Old  Rpkraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      277 

well  for  a  life  of  rapine  against  shy  woodland  creatures. 
Its  vast  strength  and  determined  temper,  however,  more 
than  make  amends  for  lack  of  agility  in  the  actual  struggle 
with  the  stricken  prey  ;  its  difficulty  lies  in  seizing,  not  in 
killing,  the  game.  Hence,  when  a  grisly  does  take  to 
game-killing,  it  is  likely  to  attack  bison,  moose,  and  elk  ; 
it  is  rarely  able  to  catch  deer,  still  less  sheep  or  antelope. 
In  fact  these  smaller  game  animals  often  show  but  little 
dread  of  its  neighborhood,  and,  though  careful  not  to  let 
it  come  too  near,  go  on  grazing  when  a  bear  is  in  full 
sight.  Whitetail  deer  are  frequently  found  at  home  in 
the  same  thicket  in  which  a  bear  has  its  den,  while  they 
immediately  desert  the  temporary  abiding  place  of  a  wolf 
or  cougar.  Nevertheless,  they  sometimes  presume  too 
much  on  this  confidence.  A  couple  of  years  before  the 
occurrence  of  the  feats  of  cattle-killing  mentioned  above 
as  happening  near  my  ranch,  either  the  same  bear  that 
figured  in  them,  or  another  of  similar  tastes,  took  to  game- 
hunting.  The  beast  lived  in  the  same  succession  of  huge 
thickets  which  cover  for  two  or  three  miles  the  river 
bottoms  and  the  mouths  of  the  inflowing  creeks  ;  and  he 
suddenly  made  a  raid  on  the  whitetail  deer  which  were 
plentiful  in  the  dense  cover.  The  shaggy,  clumsy  mon- 
ster was  cunning  enough  to  kill  several  of  these  knowing 
creatures.  The  exact  course  of  procedure  I  never  could 
find  out ;  but  apparently  the  bear  laid  in  wait  beside  the 
game  trails,  along  which  the  deer  wandered. 

In  the  old  days  when  the  innumerable  bison  grazed 
free  on  the  prairie,  the  grisly  sometimes  harassed  their 
bands  as  it  now  does  the  herds  of  the  ranchman.  The 


278  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

bison  was  the  most  easily  approached  of  all  game,  and  the 
great  bear  could  often  get  near  some  outlying  straggler, 
in  its  quest  after  stray  cows,  yearlings,  or  calves.  In 
default  of  a  favorable  chance  to  make  a  prey  of 
one  ef  these  weaker  members  of  the  herds,  it  did 
not  hesitate  to  attack  the  mighty  bulls  themselves ; 
and  perhaps  the  grandest  sight  which  it  was  ever  the 
good  fortune  of  the  early  hunters  to  witness,  was  one  of 
these  rare  battles  between  a  hungry  grisly  and  a  power- 
ful buffalo  bull.  Nowadays,  however,  the  few  last  sur- 
vivors of  the  bison  are  vanishing  even  from  the  inaccessible 
mountain  fastnesses  in  which  they  sought  a  final  refuge 
from  their  destroyers. 

At  present  the  wapiti  is  of  all  wild  game  that  which  is 
most  likely  to  fall  a  victim  to  the  grisly,  when  the  big 
bear  is  in  the  mood  to  turn  hunter.  Wapiti  are  found  in 
the  same  places  as  the  grisly,  and  in  some  spots  they  are 
yet  very  plentiful ;  they  are  less  shy  and  active  than  deer, 
while  not  powerful  enough  to  beat  off  so  ponderous  a  foe  ; 
and  they  live  in  cover  where  there  is  always  a  good  chance 
either  to  stalk  or  to  stumble  on  them.  At  almost  any 
season  bear  will  come  and  feast  on  an  elk  carcass ;  and  if 
the  food  supply  runs  short,  in  early  spring,  or  in  a  fall 
when  the  berry  crop  fails,  they  sometimes  have  to  do  their 
own  killing.  Twice  I  have  come  across  the  remains  of 
elk,  which  had  seemingly  been  slain  and  devoured  by 
bears.  I  have  never  heard  of  elk  making  a  fight  against 
a  bear  ;  yet,  at  close  quarters  and  at  bay,  a  bull  elk  in  the 
rutting  season  is  an  ugly  foe. 


Old  Ephraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      279 

A  bull  moose  is  even  more  formidable,  being  able  to 
strike  the  most  lightning-like  blows  with  his  terrible 
forefeet,  his  true  weapons  of  defence.  I  doubt  if  any 
beast  of  prey  would  rush  in  on  one  of  these  woodland 
giants,  when  his  horns  were  grown,  and  if  he  was  on  his 
guard  and  bent  on  fight.  Nevertheless,  the  moose  some- 
times fall  victims  to  the  uncouth  prowess  of  the  grisly,  in 
the  thick  wet  forests  of  the  high  northern  Rockies,  where 
both  beasts  dwell.  An  old  hunter  who  a  dozen  years  ago 
wintered  at  Jackson  Lake,  in  northwestern  Wyoming,  told 
me  that  when  the  snows  got  deep  on  the  mountains  the 
moose  came, down  and  took  up  their  abode  near  the  lake, 
on  its  western  side.  Nothing  molested  them  during  the 
winter.  Early  in  the  spring  a  grisly  came  out  of  its  den, 
and  he  found  its  tracks  in  many  places,  as  it  roamed  rest- 
lessly about,  evidently  very  hungry.  Finding  little  to  eat 
in  the  bleak,  snow-drifted  woods,  it  soon  began  to  depre- 
date on  the  moose,  and  killed  two  or  three,  generally  by 
lying  in  wait  and  dashing  out  on  them  as  they  passed  near 
its  lurking-place.  Even  the  bulls  were  at  that  season 
weak,  and  of  course  hornless,  with  small  desire  to  fight ; 
and  in  each  case  the  rush  of  the  great  bear — doubtless 
made  with  the  ferocity  and  speed  which  so  often  belie  the 
seeming  awkwardness  of  the  animal — bore  down  the 
startled  victim,  taken  utterly  unawares  before  it  had  a 
chance  to  defend  itself.  In  one  case  the  bear  had  missed 
its  spring ;  the  moose  going  off,  for  a  few  rods,  with  huge 
jumps,  and  then  settling  down  into  its  characteristic  trot. 
The  old  hunter  who  followed  the  tracks  said  he  would 


280  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

never  have  deemed  it  possible  for  any  animal  to  make 
such  strides  while  in  a  trot. 

Nevertheless,  the  grisly  is  only  occasionally,  not  nor- 
mally, a  formidable  predatory  beast,  a  killer  of  cattle  and 
of  large  game.  Although  capable  of  far  swifter  move- 
ment than  is  promised  by  his  frame  of  seemingly  clumsy 
strength,  and  in  spite  of  his  power  of  charging  with 
astonishing  suddenness  and  speed,  he  yet  lacks  altogether 
the  supple  agility  of  such  finished  destroyers  as  the  cougar 
and  the  wolf  ;  and  for  the  absence  of  this  agility  no  amount 
of  mere  huge  muscle  can  atone.  He  is  more  apt  to  feast 
on  animals  which  have  met  their  death  by  accident,  or 
which  have  been  killed  by  other  beasts  or  by  man,  than 
to  do  his  own  killing.  He  is  a  very  foul  feeder,  with  a 
strong  relish  for  carrion,  and  possesses  a  grewsome  and 
cannibal  fondness  for  the  flesh  of  his  own  kind  ;  a  bear 
carcass  will  toll  a  brother  bear  to  the  ambushed  hunter 
better  than  almost  any  other  bait,  unless  it  is  the  carcass 
of  a  horse. 

Nor  do  these  big  bears  always  content  themselves 
merely  with  the  carcasses  of  their  brethren.  A  black  bear 
would  have  a  poor  chance  if  in  the  clutches  of  a  large, 
hungry  grisly  ;  and  an  old  male  will  kill  and  eat  a  cub, 
especially  if  he  finds  it  at  a  disadvantage.  A  rather  re- 
markable instance  of  this  occurred  in  the  Yellowstone 
National  Park,  in  the  spring  of  1891.  The  incident  is 
related  in  the  following  letter  written  to  Mr.  William 
Hallett  Phillips,  of  Washington,  by  another  friend,  Mr. 
Elwood  Hofer.  Hofer  is  an  old  mountain-man ;  I  have 
hunted  with  him  myself,  and  know  his  statements  to  be 


Old  Epkraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      281 

trustworthy.  He  was,  at  the  time,  at  work  in  the  Park 
getting  animals  for  the  National  Museum  at  Washington, 
and  was  staying  at  Yancey's  "  hotel "  near  Tower  Falls. 
His  letter  which  was  dated  June  2ist,  1891,  runs  in  jpart 
as  follows  : 

"  I  had  a  splendid  Grizzly  or  Roachback  cub  and  was 
going  to  send  him  into  the  Springs  next  morning  the  team 
was  here,  I  heard  a  racket  out  side  went  out  and  found 
him  dead  an  old  bear  that  made  an  9  1-2  inch  track  had 
killed  and  partly  eaten  him.  Last  night  another  one  came, 
one  that  made  an  8  1-2  inch  track,  and  broke  Yancy  up 
in  the  milk  business.  You  know  how  the  cabins  stand 
here.  There  is  a  hitching  post  between  the  saloon  and 
old  house,  the  little  bear  was  killed  there.  In  a  creek 
close  by  was  a  milk  house,  last  night  another  bear  came 
there  and  smashed  the  whole  thing  up,  leaving  nothing 
but  a  few  flattened  buckets  and  pans  and  boards.  I  was 
sleeping  in  the  old  cabin,  I  heard  the  tin  ware  rattle  but 
thought  it  was  all  right  supposed  it  was  cows  or  horses 
about.  I  don't  care  about  the  milk  but  the  damn  cuss  dug 
up  the  remains  of  the  cub  I  had  buried  in  the  old  ditch, 
he  visited  the  old  meat  house  but  found  nothing.  Bear 
are  very  thick  in  this  part  of  the  Park,  and  are  getting 
very  fresh.  I  sent  in  the  game  to  Capt.  Anderson,  hear 
its  doing  well." 

Grislies  are  fond  of  fish  ;  and  on  the  Pacific  slope, 
where  the  salmon  run,  they,  like  so  many  other  beasts, 
travel  many  scores  of  miles  and  crowd  down  to  the 
rivers  to  gorge  themselves  upon  the  fish  which  are 
thrown  up  on  the  banks.  Wading  into  the  water  a  bear 


282  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

will  knock  out  the  salmon  right  and  left  when  they  are 
running  thick. 

Flesh  and  fish  do  not  constitute  the  grisly's  ordinary 
diet.  At  most  times  the  big  bear  is  a  grubber  in  the 
ground,  an  eater  of  insects,  roots,  nuts,  and  berries.  Its 
dangerous  fore-claws  are  normally  used  to  overturn  stones 
and  knock  rotten  logs  to  pieces,  that  it  may  lap  up  the 
small  tribes  of  darkness  which  swarm  under  the  one  and 
in  the  other.  It  digs  up  the  camas  roots,  wild  onions,  and 
an  occasional  luckless  woodchuck  or  gopher.  If  food  is 
very  plenty  bears  are  lazy,  but  commonly  they  are  obliged 
to  be  very  industrious,  it  being  no  light  task  to  gather 
enough  ants,  beetles,  crickets,  tumble-bugs,  roots,  and  nuts 
to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  so  huge  a  bulk.  The  sign  of  a 
bear's  work  is,  of  course,  evident  to  the  most  unpractised 
eye  ;*and  in  no  way  can  one  get  a  better  idea  of  the 
brute's  power  than  by  watching  it  busily  working  for  its 
breakfast,  shattering  big  logs  and  upsetting  boulders  by 
sheer  strength.  There  is  always  a  touch  of  the  comic,  as 
well  as  a  touch  of  the  strong  and  terrible,  in  a  bear's  look 
and  actions.  It  will  tug  and  pull,  now  with  one  paw,  now 
with  two,  now  on  all  fours,  now  on  its  hind  legs,  in  the 
effort  to  turn  over  a  large  log  or  stone  ;  and  when  it 
succeeds  it  jumps  round  to  thrust  its  muzzle  into  the  damp 
hollow  and  lap  up  the  affrighted  mice  or  beetles  while 
they  are  still  paralyzed  by  the  sudden  exposure. 

The  true  time  of  plenty  for  bears  is  the  berry  season. 
Then  they  feast  ravenously  on  huckleberries,  blueberries, 
kinnikinic  berries,  buffalo  berries,  wild  plums,  elder- 
berries, and  scores  of  other  fruits.  They  often  smash  all 


Old  Ephraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      283 

the  bushes  in  a  berry  patch,  gathering  the  fruit  with  half- 
luxurious,  half-laborious  greed,  sitting  on  their  haunches, 
and  sweeping  the  berries  into  their  mouths  with  dexterous 
paws.  So  absorbed  do  they  become  in  their  feasts  on  the 
luscious  fruit  that  they  grow  reckless  of  their  safety,  and 
feed  in  broad  daylight,  almost  at  midday ;  while  in  some 
of  the  thickets,  especially  those  of  the  mountain  haws, 
they  make  so  much  noise  in  smashing  the  branches  that 
it  is  a  comparatively  easy  matter  to  approach  them  un- 
heard. That  still-hunter  is  in  luck  who  in  the  fall  finds 
an  accessible  berry-covered  hill-side  which  is  haunted  by 
bears  ;  but,  as  a  rule,  the  berry  bushes  do  not  grow  close 
enough  together  to  give  the  hunter  much  chance. 

Like  most  other  wild  animals,  bears  which  have  known 
the  neighborhood  of  man  are  beasts  of  the  darkness,  or 
at  least  of  the  dusk  and  the  gloaming.  But  they  are  by 
no  means  such  true  night-lovers  as  the  big  cats  and  the 
wolves.  In  regions  where  they  know  little  of  hunters 
they  roam  about  freely  in  the  daylight,  and  in  cool 
weather  are  even  apt  to  take  their  noontide  slumbers 
basking  in  the  sun.  Where  they  are  much  hunted  they 
finally  almost  reverse  their  natural  habits  and  sleep 
throughout  the  hours  of  light,  only  venturing  abroad 
after  nightfall  and  before  sunrise  ;  but  even  yet  this  is  not 
the  habit  of  those  bears  which  exist  in  the  wilder  localities 
where  they  are  still  plentiful.  In  these  places  they  sleep, 
or  at  least  rest,  during  the  hours  of  greatest  heat,  and 
again  in  the  middle  part  of  the  night,  unless  there  is  a  full 
moon.  They  start  on  their  rambles  for  food  about  mid- 
afternoon,  and  end  their  morning  roaming  soon  after  the 


284  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

sun  is  above  the  horizon.  If  the  moon  is  full,  however, 
they  may  feed  all  night  long,  and  then  wander  but  little 
in  the  daytime. 

Aside  from  man,  the  full-grown  grisly  has  hardly  any  foe 
to  fear.  Nevertheless,  in  the  early  spring,  when  weakened 
by  the  hunger  that  succeeds  the  winter  sleep,  it  behooves 
even  the  grisly,  if  he  dwells  in  the  mountain  fastnesses  of 
the  far  northwest,  to  beware  of  a  famished  troop  of  great 
timber  wolves.  These  northern  Rocky  Mountain  wolves 
are  most  formidable  beasts,  and  when  many  of  them  band 
together  in  time  of  famine  they  do  not  hesitate  to  pounce 
on  the  black  bear  and  cougar ;  and  even  a  full-grown 
grisly  is  not  safe  from  their  ^attacks,  unless  he  can  back  up 
against  some  rock  which  will  prevent  them  from  assailing 
him  from  behind.  A  small  ranchman  whom  I  knew  well, 
who  lived  near  Flathead  Lake,  once  in  April  found  where 
a  troop  of  these  wolves  had  killed  a  good-sized  yearling 
grisly.  Either  cougar  or  wolf  will  make  a  prey  of  a  grisly 
which  is  but  a  few  months  old  ;  while  any  fox,  lynx, 
wolverine,  or  fisher  will  seize  the  very  young  cubs.  The 
old  story  about  wolves  fearing  to  feast  on  game  killed  by 
a  grisly  is  all  nonsense.  Wolves  are  canny  beasts,  and 
they  will  not  approach  a  carcass  if  they  think  a  bear  is 
hidden  nearby  and  likely  to  rush  out  at  them  ;  but  under 
ordinary  circumstances  they  will  feast  not  only  on  the 
carcasses  of  the  grisly's  victims,  but  on  the  carcass  of  the 
grisly  himself  after  he  has  been  slain  and  left  by  the 
hunter.  Of  course  wolves  would  only  attack  a  grisly  if  in 
the  most  desperate  straits  for  food,  as  even  a  victory  over 
such  an  antagonist  must  be  purchased  with  heavy  loss  of 


Old  Rphraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      285 

life  ;  and  a  hungry  grisly  would  devour  either  a  wolf  or 
a  cougar,  or  any  one  of  the  smaller  carnivora  off-hand  if 
it  happened  to  corner  it  where  it  could  not  get  away. 

The  grisly  occasionally  makes  its  den  in  a  cave  and 
spends  therein  the  midday  hours.  But  this  is  rare.  Usually 
it  lies  in  the  dense  shelter  of  the  most  tangled  piece  of 
woods  in  the  neighborhood,  choosing  by  preference  some 
bit  where  the  young  growth  is  thick  and  the  ground  strewn 
with  boulders  and  fallen  logs.  Often,  especially  if  in  a 
restless  mood  and  roaming  much  over  the  country,  it 
merely  makes  a  temporary  bed,  in  which  it  lies  but  once 
or  twice  ;  and  again  it  may  make  a  more  permanent  lair  or 
series  of  lairs,  spending  many  consecutive  nights  in  each. 
Usually  the  lair  or  bed  is  made  some  distance  from  the 
feeding  ground  ;  but  bold  bears,  in  very  wild  localities, 
may  lie  close  by  a  carcass,  or  in  the  middle  of  a  berry 
ground.  The  deer-killing  bear  above  mentioned  had 
evidently  dragged  two  or  three  of  his  victims  to  his  den, 
which  was  under  an  impenetrable  mat  of  bull-berries  and 
dwarf  box-alders,  hemmed  in  by  a  cut  bank  on  one  side 
and  a  wall  of  gnarled  cottonwoods  on  the  other.  Round 
this  den,  and  rendering  it  noisome,  were  scattered  the 
bones  of  several  deer  and  a  young  steer  or  heifer.  When 
we  found  it  we  thought  we  could  easily  kill  the  bear,  but 
the  fierce,  cunning  beast  must  have  seen  or  smelt  us,  for 
though  we  laid  in  wait  for  it  long  and  patiently,  it  did  not 
come  back  to  its  place ;  nor,  on  our  subsequent  visits,  did 
we  ever  find  traces  of  its  having  done  so. 

Bear  are  fond  of  wallowing  in  the  water,  whether  in  the 
sand,  on  the  edge  of  a  rapid  plains  river,  on  the  muddy 


286  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

margin  of  a  pond,  or  in  the  oozy  moss  of  a  clear,  cold 
mountain  spring.  One  hot  August  afternoon,  as  I  was 
clambering  down  a  steep  mountain-side  near  Pend'Oreille 
lake,  I  heard  a  crash  some  distance  below,  which  showed 
that  a  large  beast  was  afoot.  On  making  my  way  towards 
the  spot,  I  found  I  had  disturbed  a  big  bear  as  it  was 
lolling  at  ease  in  its  bath  ;  the  discolored  water  showed 
where  it  had  scrambled  hastily  out  and  galloped  off  as  I 
approached.  The  spring  welled  out  at  the  base  of  a  high 
granite  rock,  forming  a  small  pool  of  shimmering  broken 
crystal.  The  soaked  moss  lay  in  a  deep  wet  cushion  round 
about,  and  jutted  over  the  edges  of  the  pool  like  a  floating 
shelf.  Graceful,  water-loving  ferns  swayed  to  and  fro. 
Above,  the  great  conifers  spread  their  murmuring  branches, 
dimming  the  light,  and  keeping  out  the  heat ;  their  brown 
boles  sprang  from  the  ground  like  buttressed  columns. 
On  the  barren  mountain-side  beyond  the  heat  was  op- 
pressive. It  was  small  wonder  that  Bruin  should  have 
sought  the  spot  to  cool  his  gross  carcass  in  the  fresh 
spring  water. 

The  bear  is  a  solitary  beast,  and  although  many  may 
assemble  together,  in  what  looks  like  a  drove,  on  some 
favorite  feeding-ground — usually  where  the  berries  are 
thick,  or  by  the  banks  of  a  salmon-thronged  river — the 
association  is  never  more  than  momentary,  each  going  its 
own  way  as  soon  as  its  hunger  is  satisfied.  The  males 
always  live  alone  by  choice,  save  in  the  rutting  season, 
when  they  seek  the  females.  Then  two  or  three  may  come 
together  in  the  course  of  their  pursuit  and  rough  courtship 
of  the  female ;  and  if  the  rivals  are  well  matched,  savage 


Old  Ephraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      287 

battles  follow,  so  that  many  of  the  old  males  have  their 
heads  seamed  with  scars  made  by  their  fellows'  teeth.  At 
such  times  they  are  evil  tempered  and  prone  to  attack 
man  or  beast  on  slight  provocation. 

The  she  brings  forth  her  cubs,  one,  two,  or  three  in 
number,  in  her  winter  den.  They  are  very  small  and 
helpless  things,  and  it  is  some  time  after  she  leaves  her 
winter  home  before  they  can  follow  her  for  any  distance. 
They  stay  with  her  throughout  the  summer  and  the  fall, 
leaving  her  when  the  cold  weather  sets  in.  By  this  time 
they  are  well  grown  ;  and  hence,  especially  if  an  old  male 
has  joined  the  she,  the  family  may  number  three  or  four 
individuals,  so  as  to  make  what  seems  like  quite  a  little 
troop  of  bears.  A  small  ranchman  who  lived  a  dozen 
miles  from  me  on  the  Little  Missouri  once  found  a  she- 
bear  and  three  half-grown  cubs  feeding  at  a  berry-patch  in 
a  ravine.  He  shot  the  old  she  in  the  small  of  the  back, 
whereat  she  made  a  loud  roaring  and  squealing.  One  of 
the  cubs  rushed  towards  her ;  but  its  sympathy  proved 
misplaced,  for  she  knocked  it  over  with  a  hearty  cuff, 
either  out  of  mere  temper,  or  because  she  thought  her 
pain  must  be  due  to  an  unprovoked  assault  from  one  of 
her  offspring.  The  hunter  then  killed  one  of  the  cubs, 
and  the  other  two  escaped.  When  bears  are  together  and 
one  is  wounded  by  a  bullet,  but  does  not  see  the  real 
assailant,  it  often  falls  tooth  and  nail  upon  its  comrade, 
apparently  attributing  its  injury  to  the  latter. 

Bears  are  hunted  in  many  ways.  Some  are  killed  by 
poison  ;  but  this  plan  is  only  practised  by  the  owners  of 
cattle  or  sheep  who  have  suffered  from  their  ravages. 


288  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Moreover,  they  are  harder  to  poison  than  wolves.  Most 
often  they  are  killed  in  traps,  which  are  sometimes  dead- 
falls, on  the  principle  of  the  little  figure-4  trap  familiar  to 
every  American  country  boy,  sometimes  log-pens  in 
which  the  animal  is  taken  alive,  but  generally  huge  steel 
gins.  In  some  states  there  is  a  bounty  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  grislies  ;  and  in  many  places  their  skins  have  a 
market  price,  although  much  less  valuable  than  those  of 
the  black  bear.  The  men  who  pursue  them  for  the 
bounty,  or  for  their  fur,  as  well  as  the  ranchmen  who 
regard  them  as  foes  to  stock,  ordinarily  use  steel  traps. 
The  trap  is  very  massive,  needing  no  small  strength  to 
set,  and  it  is  usually  chained  to  a  bar  or  log  of  wood, 
which  does  not  stop  the  bear's  progress  outright,  but 
hampers  and  interferes  with  it,  continually  catching  in 
tree  stumps  and  the  like.  The  animal  when  trapped 
makes  off  at  once,  biting  at  the  trap  and  the  bar ;  but  it 
leaves  a  broad  wake  and  sooner  or  later  is  found  tangled 
up  by  the  chain  and  bar.  A  bear  is  by  no  means  so 
difficult  to  trap  as  a  wolf  or  fox  although  more  so  than  a 
cougar  or  a  lynx.  In  wild  regions  a  skilful  trapper  can 
often  catch  a  great  many  with  comparative  ease.  A 
cunning  old  grisly  however,  soon  learns  the  danger,  and 
is  then  almost  impossible  to  trap,  as  it  either  avoids  the 
neighborhood  altogether  or  finds  out  some  way  by  which 
to  get  at  the  bait  without  springing  the  trap,  or  else 
deliberately  springs  it  first.  I  have  been  told  of  bears 
which  spring  traps  by  rolling  across  them,  the  iron  jaws 
slipping  harmlessly  off  the  big  round  body.  An  old  horse 
is  the  most  common  bait. 


Old  Epkraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      289 

It  is,  of  course,  all  right  to  trap  bears  when  they  are 
followed  merely  as  vermin  or  for  the  sake  of  the  fur. 
Occasionally,  however,  hunters  who  are  out  merely  for 
sport  adopt  this  method  ;  but  this  should  never  be  done. 
To  shoot  a  trapped  bear  for  sport  is  a  thoroughly  un- 
sportsmanlike proceeding.  A  funny  plea  sometimes 
advanced  in  its  favor  is  that  it  is  "dangerous."  No 
doubt  in  exceptional  instances  this  is  true ;  exactly  as  it 
is  true  that  in  exceptional  instances  it  is  "  dangerous " 
for  a  butcher  to  knock  over  a  steer  in  the  slaughter- 
house. A  bear  caught  only  by  the  toes  may  wrench 
itself  free  as  the  hunter  comes  near,  and  attack  him  with 
pain-maddened  fury  ;  or  if  followed  at  once,  and  if  the 
trap  and  bar  are  light,  it  may  be  found  in  some  thicket, 
still  free,  and  in  a  frenzy  of  rage.  But  even  in  such 
cases  the  beast  has  been  crippled,  and  though  crazy  with 
pain  and  anger  is  easily  dealt  with  by  a  good  shot  ;  while 
ordinarily  the  poor  brute  is  found  in  the  last  stages  of 
exhaustion,  tied  tight  to  a  tree  where  the  log  or  bar  has 
caught,  its  teeth  broken  to  splintered  stumps  by  rabid 
snaps  at  the  cruel  trap  and  chain.  Some  trappers  kill 
the  trapped  grislies  with  a  revolver ;  so  that  it  may 
easily  be  seen  that  the  sport  is  not  normally  danger- 
ous. Two  of  my  own  cowboys,  Seawell  and  Dow,  were 
originally  from  Maine,  where  they  had  trapped  a  number 
of  black  bears  ;  and  they  always  killed  them  either  with 
a  hatchet  or  a  small  32-calibre  revolver.  One  of  them, 
Seawell,  once  came  near  being  mauled  by  a  trapped  bear, 
seemingly  at  the  last  gasp,  which  he  approached  in- 
cautiously with  his  hatchet. 
19 


290  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

There  is,  however,  one  very  real  danger  to  which  the 
solitary  bear-trapper  is  exposed,  the  danger  of  being 
caught  in  his  own  trap.  The  huge  jaws  of  the  gin  are  easy 
to  spring  and  most  hard  to  open.  If  an  unwary  passer-by 
should  tread  between  them  and  be  caught  by  the  leg,  his 
fate  would  be  doubtful,  though  he  would  probable  die  under 
the  steadily  growing  torment  of  the  merciless  iron  jaws, 
as  they  pressed  ever  deeper  into  the  sore  flesh  and  broken 
bones.  But  if  caught  by  the  arms,  while  setting  or  fixing 
the  trap,  his  fate  would  be  in  no  doubt  at  all,  for  it  would 
be  impossible  for  the  stoutest  man  to  free  himself  by  any 
means.  Terrible  stories  are  told  of  solitary  mountain 
hunters  who  disappeared,  and  were  found  years  later  in 
the  lonely  wilderness,  as  mouldering  skeletons,  the 
shattered  bones  of  the  forearms  still  held  in  the  rusty 
jaws  of  the  gin. 

Doubtless  the  grisly  could  be  successfully  hunted  with 
dogs,  if  the  latter  were  carefully  bred  and  trained  to  the 
purpose,  but  as  yet  this  has  not  been  done,  and  though 
dogs  are  sometimes  used  as  adjuncts  in  grisly  hunting 
they  are  rarely  of  much  service.  It  is  sometimes  said 
that  very  small  dogs  are  the  best  for  this  end.  But  this 
is  only  so  with  grislies  that  have  never  been  hunted. 
In  such  a  case  the  big  bear  sometimes  becomes  so  irritated 
with  the  bouncing,  yapping  little  terriers  or  fice-dogs  that 
he  may  try  to  catch  them  and  thus  permit  the  hunter  to 
creep  upon  him.  But  the  minute  he  realizes,  as  he 
speedily  does,  that  the  man  is  his  real  foe,  he  pays  no 
further  heed  whatever  to  the  little  dogs,  who  can  then 
neither  bring  him  to  bay  nor  hinder  his  flight.  Ordinary 


Old  Rphraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      291 

hounds,  of  the  kinds  used  in  the  South  for  fox,  deer,  wild- 
cat, and  black  bear,  are  but  little  better.  I  have  known 
one  or  two  men  who  at  different  times  tried  to  hunt  the 
grisly  with  a  pack  of  hounds  and  fice-dogs  wonted  to  the 
chase  of  the  black  bear,  but  they  never  met  with  success, 
This  was  probably  largely  owing  to  the  nature  of  the 
country  in  which  they  hunted,  a  vast  tangled  mass  of 
forest  and  craggy  mountain  ;  but  it  was  also  due  to  the 
utter  inability  of  the  dogs  to  stop  the  quarry  from  break- 
ing bay  when  it  wished.  Several  times  a  grisly  was 
bayed,  but  always  in  some  inaccessible  spot  which  it  took 
hard  climbing  to  reach,  and  the  dogs  were  never  able  to 
hold  the  beast  until  the  hunters  came  up. 

Still  a  well-trained  pack  of  large  hounds  which  were 
both  bold  and  cunning  could  doubtless  bay  even  a  grisly. 
Such  dogs  are  the  big  half-breed  hounds  sometimes  used 
in  the  Alleghanies  of  West  Virginia,  which  are  trained 
not  merely  to  nip  a  bear,  but  to  grip  him  by  the  hock  as 
he  runs  and  either  throw  him  or  twirl  him  round.  A 
grisly  could  not  disregard  a  wary  and  powerful  hound 
capable  of  performing  this  trick,  even  though  he  paid 
small  heed  to  mere  barking  and  occasional  nipping.  Nor 
do  I  doubt  that  it  would  be  possible  to  get  together  a 
pack  of  many  large,  fierce  dogs,  trained  to  dash  straight 
at  the  head  and  hold  on  like  a  vice,  which  could  fairly 
master  a  grisly  a*hd,  though  unable,  of  course,  to  kill  him, 
would  worry  him  breathless  and  hold  him  down  so  that  he 
could  be  slain  with  ease.  There  have  been  instances  in 
which  five  or  six  of  the  big  so-called  blood-hounds  of  the 
southern  States — not  pure  blood-hounds  at  all,  but  huge, 


292  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

fierce,  ban-dogs,  with  a  cross  of  the  ferocious  Cuban  blood- 
hound, to  give  them  good  scenting  powers — have  by  them- 
selves mastered  the  cougar  and  the  black  bear.  Such 
instances  occurred  in  the  hunting  history  of  my  own 
forefathers  on  my  mother's  side,  who  during  the  last  half 
of  the  eighteenth,  and  the  first  half  of  the  present,  century 
lived  in  Georgia  and  over  the  border  in  what  are  now 
Alabama  and  Florida.  These  big  dogs  can  only  overcome 
such  foes  by  rushing  in  in  a  body  and  grappling  all 
together ;  if  they  hang  back,  lunging  and  snapping,  a 
cougar  or  bear  will  destroy  them  one  by  one.  With  a 
quarry  so  huge  and  redoubtable  as  the  grisly,  no  number 
of  dogs,  however  large  and  fierce,  could  overcome  him 
unless  they  all  rushed  on  him  in  a  mass,  the  first  in  the 
charge  seizing  by  the  head  or  throat.  If  the  dogs  hung 
back,  or  if  there  were  only  a  few  of  them,  or  if  they  did 
not  seize  around  the  head,  they  would  be  destroyed  without 
an  effort.  It  is  murder  to  slip  merely  one  or  two  close- 
quarter  dogs  at  a  grisly.  Twice  I  have  known  a  man  take 
a  large  bull  dog  with  his  pack  when  after  one  of  these  big 
bears,  and  in  each  case  the  result  was  the  same.  In  one 
instance  the  bear  was  trotting  when  the  bulldog  seized  it 
by  the  cheek,  and  without  so  much  as  altering  its  gait,  it 
brushed  off  the  hanging  dog  with  a  blow  from  the  fore- 
paw  that  broke  the  latter's  back.  In  the  other  instance 
the  bear  had  come  to  bay,  and  when  seized  by  the  ear  it 
got  the  dog's  body  up  to  its  jaws,  and  tore  out  the  life 
with  one  crunch. 

A  small  number  of  dogs  must  rely  on   their  activity, 
and  must  hamper  the  bear's  escape  by  inflicting  a  severe 


Old  Epkraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      293 

bite  and  avoiding  the  counter-stroke.  The  only  dog  I  ever 
heard  of  which,  single-handed,  was  really  of  service  in 
stopping  a  grisly,  was  a  big  Mexican  sheep-dog,  once 
owned  by  the  hunter  Tazewell  Woody.  It  was  an  agile 
beast  with  powerful  jaws,  and  possessed  both  intelligence 
and  a  fierce,  resolute  temper.  Woody  killed  three  grislies 
with  its  aid.  It  attacked  with  equal  caution  and  ferocity, 
rushing  at  the  bear  as  the  latter  ran,  and  seizing  the  out- 
stretched hock  with  a  grip  of  iron,  stopping  the  bear  short, 
but  letting  go  before  the  angry  beast  could  whirl  round 
and  seize  it.  It  was  so  active  and  wary  that  it  always 
escaped  damage  ;  and  it  was  so  strong  and  bit  so  severely 
that  the  bear  could  not  possibly  run  from  it  at  any  speed. 
In  consequence,  if  it  once  came  to  close  quarters  with  its 
quarry,  Woody  could  always  get  near  enough  for  a  shot. 
Hitherto,  however,  the  mountain  hunters — as  distin- 
guished from  the  trappers — who  have  followed  the  grisly 
have  relied  almost  solely  on  their  rifles.  In  my  own  case 
about  half  the  bears  I  have  killed  I  stumbled  across  almost 
by  accident ;  and  probably  this  proportion  holds  good 
generally.  The  hunter  may  be  after  bear  at  the  time,  or 
he  may  be  after  blacktail  deer  or  elk,  the  common  game 
in  most  of  the  haunts  of  the  grisly  ;  or  he  may  merely  be 
travelling  through  the  country  or  prospecting  for  gold. 
Suddenly  he  comes  over  the  edge  of  a  cut  bank,  or  round 
the  sharp  spur  of  a  mountain  or  the  shoulder  of  a  cliff 
which  walls  in  a  ravine,  or  else  the  indistinct  game  trail 
he  has  been  following  through  the  great  trees  twists 
sharply  to  one  side  to  avoid  a  rock  or  a  mass  of  down 
timber,  and  behold  he  surprises  old  Elphraim  digging  for 


294  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

roots,  or  munching  berries,  or  slouching  along  the  pathr 
or  perhaps  rising  suddenly  from  the  lush,  rank  plants  amid 
which  he  has  been  lying.  Or  it  may  be  that  the  bear  will 
be  spied  afar  rooting  in  an  open  glade  or  on  a  bare 
hill-side. 

In  the  still-hunt  proper  it  is  necessary  to  find  some 
favorite  feeding-ground,  where  there  are  many  roots  or 
berry-bearing  bushes,  or  else  to  lure  the  grisly  to  a  carcass. 
This  last  method  of  "baiting"  for  bear  is  under  ordinary 
circumstances  the  only  way  which  affords  even  a  mod- 
erately fair  chance  of  killing  them.  They  are  very 
cunning,  with  the  sharpest  of  noses,  and  where  they  have 
had  experience  of  hunters  they  dwell  only  in  cover  where 
it  is  almost  impossible  for  the  best  of  still-hunters  to 
approach  them. 

Nevertheless,  in  favorable  ground  a  man  can  often  find 
and  kill  them  by  fair  stalking,  in  berry  time,  or  more 
especially  in  the  early  spring,  before  the  snow  has  gone 
from  the  mountains,  and  while  the  bears  are  driven  by 
hunger  to  roam  much  abroad  and  sometimes  to  seek  their 
food  in  the  open.  In  such  cases  the  still-hunter  is  stirring 
by  the  earliest  dawn,  and  walks  with  stealthy  speed  to 
some  high  point  of  observation  from  which  he  can  over- 
look the  feeding-grounds  where  he  has  previously  dis- 
covered sign.  From  the  coign  of  vantage  he  scans  the 
country  far  and  near,  either  with  his  own  keen  eyes  or  with 
powerful  glasses  ;  and  he  must  combine  patience  and  good 
sight  with  the  ability  to  traverse  long  distances  noiselessly 
and  yet  at  speed.  He  may  spend  two  or  three  hours  sit- 
ting still  and  looking  over  a  vast  tract  of  country  before 


Old  Rpkraim,  the  Grisly  Bear.      295 

he  will  suddenly  spy  a  bear ;  or  he  may  see  nothing  after 
the  most  careful  search  in  a  given  place,  and  must  then  go 
on  half  a  dozen  miles  to  another,  watching  warily  as  he 
walks,  and  continuing  this  possibly  for  several  days  before 
getting  a  glimpse  of  his  game.  If  the  bear  are  digging 
roots,  or  otherwise  procuring  their  food  on  the  bare  hill- 
sides and  table-lands,  it  is  of  course  comparatively  easy  to 
see  them  ;  and  it  is  under  such  circumstances  that  this 
kind  of  hunting  is  most  successful.  Once  seen,  the  actual 
stalk  may  take  two  or  three  hours,  the  nature  of  the 
ground  and  the  direction  of  the  wind  often  necessitating  a 
long  circuit ;  perhaps  a  gully,  a  rock,  or  a  fallen  log  offers 
a  chance  for  an  approach  to  within  two  hundred  yards, 
and  although  the  hunter  will,  if  possible,  get  much  closer 
than  this,  yet  even  at  such  a  distance  a  bear  is  a  large 
enough  mark  to  warrant  risking  a  shot. 

Usually  the  berry  grounds  do  not  offer  such  favorable 
opportunities,  as  they  often  He  in  thick  timber,  or  are 
covered  so  densely  with  bushes  as  to  obstruct  the  view ; 
and  they  are  rarely  commanded  by  a  favorable  spot  from 
which  to  spy.  On  the  other  hand,  as  already  said,  bears 
occasionally  forget  all  their  watchfulness  while  devour- 
ing fruit,  and  make  such  a  noise  rending  and  tearing 
the  bushes  that,  if  once  found,  a  man  can  creep  upon 
them  unobserved. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

HUNTING  THE  GRISLY. 

IF  out  in  the  late  fall  or  early  spring,  it  is  often  possible 
to  follow  a  bear's  trail  in  the  snow ;    having  come 
upon  it  either  by  chance  or  hard  hunting,  or  else 
having  found  where  it  leads  from  some  carcass  on  which 
the  beast  has  been  feeding.     In  the  pursuit  one  must  ex- 
ercise great  caution,  as  at  such  times  the  hunter  is  easily 
seen  a  long  way  off,  and  game  is  always  especially  watch- 
ful for  any  foe  that  may  follow  its  trail. 

Once  I  killed  a  grisly  in  this  manner.  It  was  early  in 
the  fall,  but  snow  lay  on  the  ground,  while  the  gray  weather 
boded  a  storm.  My  camp  was  in  a  bleak,  wind-swept 
valley,  high  among  the  mountains  which  form  the  divide 
between  the  head-waters  of  the  Salmon  and  Clarke's  Fork 
of  the  Columbia.  All  night  I  had  lain  in  my  buffalo-bag, 
under  the  lea  of  a  windbreak  of  branches,  in  the  clump  of 
fir-trees,  where  I  had  halted  the  preceding  evening.  At 
my  feet  ran  a  rapid  mountain  torrent,  its  bed  choked  with 
ice-covered  rocks  ;  I  had  been  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  stream's 
splashing  murmur,  and  the  loud  moaning  of  the  wind 
along  the  naked  cliffs.  At  dawn  I  rose  and  shook  myself 

2Q6 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  297 

free  of  the  buffalo  robe,  coated  with  hoar-frost.  The  ashes 
of  the  fire  were  lifeless  ;  in  the  dim  morning  the  air  was 
bitter  cold.  I  did  not  linger  a  moment,  but  snatched  up 
my  rifle,  pulled  on  my  fur  cap  and  gloves,  and  strode  off 
up  a  side  ravine  ;  as  I  walked  I  ate  some  mouthfuls  of 
venison,  left  over  from  supper. 

Two  hours  of  toil  up  the  steep  mountain  brought  me 
to  the  top  of  a  spur.  The  sun  had  risen,  but  was  hidden 
behind  a  bank  of  sullen  clouds.  On  the  divide  I  halted, 
and  gazed  out  over  a  vast  landscape,  inconceivably  wild 
and  dismal.  Around  me  towered  the  stupendous  moun- 
tain masses  which  make  up  the  backbone  of  the  Rockies. 
From  my  feet,  as  far  as  I  could  see,  stretched  a  rugged 
and  barren  chaos  of  ridges  and  detached  rock  masses. 
Behind  me,  far  below,  the  stream  wound  like  a  silver  ribbon, 
fringed  with  dark  conifers  and  the  changing,  dying  foliage 
of  poplar  and  quaking  aspen.  In  front  the  bottoms  of  the 
valleys  were  filled  with  the  sombre  evergreen  forest,  dotted 
here  and  there  with  black,  ice-skimmed  tarns ;  and  the 
dark  spruces  clustered  also  in  the  higher  gorges,  and  were 
scattered  thinly  along  the  mountain  sides.  The  snow 
which  had  fallen  lay  in  drifts  and  streaks,  while,  where  the 
wind  had  scope  it  was  blown  off,  and  the  ground  left  bare. 

For  two  hours  I  walked  onwards  across  the  ridges 
and  valleys.  Then  among  some  scattered  spruces,  where 
the  snow  lay  to  the  depth  of  half  a  foot,  I  suddenly  came 
on  the  fresh,  broad  trail  of  a  grisly.  The  brute  was  evi- 
dently roaming  restlessly  about  in  search  of  a  winter  den, 
but  willing,  in  passing,  to  pick  up  any  food  that  lay  handy. 
At  once  I  took  the  trail,  travelling  above  and  to  one 


298  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

side,  and  keeping  a  sharp  look-out  ahead.  The  bear  was 
going  across  wind,  and  this  made  my  task  easy.  I  walked 
rapidly,  though  cautiously  ;  and  it  was  only  in  crossing 
the  large  patches  of  bare  ground  that  I  had  to  fear  mak- 
ing a  noise.  Elsewhere  the  snow  muffled  my  footsteps, 
and  made  the  trail  so  plain  that  I  scarcely  had  to  waste  a 
glance  upon  it,  bending  my  eyes  always  to  the  front. 

At  last,  peering  cautiously  over  a  ridge  crowned  with 
broken  rocks,  I  saw  my  quarry,  a  big,  burly  bear,  with 
silvered  fur.  He  had  halted  on  an  open  hill-side,  and  was 
busily  digging  up  the  caches  of  some  rock  gophers  or 
squirrels.  He  seemed  absorbed  in  his  work,  and  the 
stalk  was  easy.  Slipping  quietly  back,  I  ran  towards  the 
end  of  the  spur,  and  in  ten  minutes  struck  a  ravine,  of 
which  one  branch  ran  past  within  seventy  yards  of  where 
the  bear  was  working.  In  this  ravine  was  a  rather  close 
growth  of  stunted  evergreens,  affording  good  cover, 
although  in  one  or  two  places  I  had  to  lie  down  and  crawl 
through  the  snow.  When  I  reached  the  point  for  which 
I  was  aiming,  the  bear  had  just  finished  rooting,  and  was 
starting  off.  A  slight  whistle  brought  him  to  a  standstill, 
and  I  drew  a  bead  behind  his  shoulder,  and  low  down, 
resting  the  rifle  across  the  crooked  branch  of  a  dwarf 
spruce.  At  the  crack  he  ran  off  at  speed,  making  no 
sound,  but  the  thick  spatter  of  blood  splashes,  showing 
clear  on  the  white  snow,  betrayed  the  mortal  nature  of 
the  wound.  For  some  minutes  I  followed  the  trail  ;  and 
then,  topping  a  ridge,  I  saw  the  dark  bulk  lying  motion- 
less in  a  snow  drift  at  the  foot  of  a  low  rock-wall,  down 
which  he  had  tumbled. 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  299 

The  usual  practice  of  the  still-hunter  who  is  after 
grisly  is  to  toll  it  to  baits.  The  hunter  either  lies  in 
ambush  near  the  carcass,  or  approaches  it  stealthily  when 
he  thinks  the  bear  is  at  its  meal. 

One  day  while  camped  near  the  Bitter  Root  Moun- 
tains in  Montana  I  found  that  a  bear  had  been  feeding 
on  the  carcass  of  a  moose  which  lay  some  five  miles  from 
the  little  open  glade  in  which  my  tent  was  pitched,  and  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  try  to  get  a  shot  at  it  that  afternoon. 
I  stayed  in  camp  till  about  three  o'clock,  lying  lazily  back 
on  the  bed  of  sweet-smelling  evergreen  boughs,  watching 
the  pack  ponies  as  they  stood  under  the  pines  on  the  edge 
of  the  open,  stamping  now  and  then,  and  switching  their 
tails.  The  air  was  still,  the  sky  a  glorious  blue  ;  at  that 
hour  in  the  afternoon  even  the  September  sun  was  hot 
The  smoke  from  the  smouldering  logs  of  the  camp  fire 
curled  thinly  upwards.  Little  chipmunks  scuttled  out 
from  their  holes  to  the  packs,  which  lay  in  a  heap  on  the 
ground,  and  then  scuttled  madly  back  again.  A  couple 
of  drab-colored  whiskey-jacks,  with  bold  mien  and  fearless 
bright  eyes,  hopped  and  fluttered  round,  picking  up  the 
scraps,  and  uttering  an  extraordinary  variety  of  notes, 
mostly  discordant ;  so  tame  were  they  that  one  of  them 
lit  on  my  outstretched  arm  as  I  half  dozed,  basking  in 
the  sunshine. 

When  the  shadows  began  to  lengthen,  I  shouldered 
my  rifle  and  plunged  into  the  woods.  At  first  my  route 
lay  along  a  mountain  side ;  then  for  half  a  mile  over  a 
windfall,  the  dead  timber  piled  about  in  crazy  confusion. 
After  that  I  went  up  the  bottom  of  a  valley  by  a  little 


300  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

brook,  the  ground  being  carpeted  with  a  sponge  of  soaked 
moss.  At  the  head  of  this  brook  was  a  pond  covered  with 
water-lilies  ;  and  a  scramble  through  a  rocky  pass  took  me 
into  a  high,  wet  valley,  where  the  thick  growth  of  spruce 
was  broken  by  occasional  strips  of  meadow.  In  this 
valley  the  moose  carcass  lay,  well  at  the  upper  end. 

In  moccasined  feet  I  trod  softly  through  the  soundless 
woods.  Under  the  dark  branches  it  was  already  dusk, 
and  the  air  had  the  cool  chill  of  evening.  As  I  neared 
the  clump  where  the  body  lay,  I  walked  with  redoubled 
caution,  watching  and  listening  with  strained  alertness. 
Then  I  heard  a  twig  snap  ;  and  my  blood  leaped,  for  I 
knew  the  bear  was  at  his  supper.  In  another  moment  I 
saw  his  shaggy,  brown  form.  He  was  working  with  all 
his  awkward  giant  strength,  trying  to  bury  the  carcass, 
twisting  it  to  one  side  and  the  other  with  wonderful  ease. 
Once  he  got  angry  and  suddenly  gave  it  a  tremendous 
cuff  with  his  paw ;  in  his  bearing  he  had  something  half 
humorous,  half  devilish.  I  crept  up  within  forty  yards  ; 
but  for  several  minutes  he  would  not  keep  his  head  still. 
Then  something  attracted  his  attention  in  the  forest,  and 
he  stood  motionless  looking  towards  it,  broadside  to  me, 
with  his  fore- paws  planted  on  the  carcass.  This  gave  me 
my  chance.  I  drew  a  very  fine  bead  between  his  eye  and 
ear,  and  pulled  trigger.  He  dropped  like  a  steer  when 
struck  with  a  pole-axe. 

If  there  is  a  good  hiding-place  handy  it  is  better  to  lie 
in  wait  at  the  carcass.  One  day  on  the  head-waters  of  the 
Madison,  I  found  that  a  bear  was  coming  to  an  elk  I  had 
shot  some  days  before  ;  and  I  at  once  determined  to  am- 


Hunting  the  Grisly. 

bush  the  beast  when  he  came  back  that  evening.  The 
carcass  lay  in  the  middle  of  a  valley  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
broad.  The  bottom  of  this  valley  was  covered  by  an  open 
forest  of  tall  pines ;  a  thick  jungle  of  smaller  evergreens, 
marked  where  the  mountains  rose  on  either  hand.  There 
were  a  number  of  large  rocks  scattered  here  and  there,  one, 
of  very  convenient  shape,  being  only  some  seventy  or 
eighty  yards  from  the  carcass.  Up  this  I  clambered.  It 
hid  me  perfectly,  and  on  its  top  was  a  carpet  of  soft  pine 
needles,  on  which  I  could  lie  at  my  ease. 

Hour  after  hour  passed  by.  A  little  black  woodpecker 
with  a  yellow  crest  ran  nimbly  up  and  down  the  tree  trunks 
for  some  time  and  then  flitted  away  with  a  party  of  chicka- 
dees and  nut-hatches.  Occasionally  a  Clarke's  crow  soared 
about  overhead  or  clung  in  any  position  to  the  swaying 
end  of  a  pine  branch,  chattering  and  screaming.  Flocks 
of  cross-bills,  with  wavy  flight  and  plaintive  calls,  flew  to 
a  small  mineral  lick  near  by,  where  they  scraped  the  clay 
with  their  queer  little  beaks. 

As  the  westering  sun  sank  out  of  sight  beyond  the 
mountains  these  sounds  of  bird-life  gradually  died  away. 
Under  the  great  pines  the  evening  was  still  with  the  silence 
of  primeval  desolation.  The  sense  of  sadness  and  loneli- 
ness, the  melancholy  of  the  wilderness,  came  over  me  like 
a  spell.  Every  slight  noise  made  my  pulses  throb  as  I  lay 
motionless  on  the  rock  gazing  intently  into  the  gathering 
gloom.  I  began  to  fear  that  it  would  grow  too  dark  to 
shoot  before  the  grisly  came. 

Suddenly  and  without  warning,  the  great  bear  stepped 
out  of  the  bushes  and  trod  across  the  pine  needles  with 


302  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

such  swift  and  silent  footsteps  that  its  bulk  seemed  unreal. 
It  was  very  cautious,  continually  halting  to  peer  around ; 
and  once  it  stood  up  on  its  hind  legs  and  looked  long 
down  the  valley  towards  the  red  west.  As  it  reached 
the  carcass  I  put  a  bullet  between  its  shoulders.  It 
rolled  over,  while  the  woods  resounded  with  its  savage 
roaring.  Immediately  it  struggled  to  its  feet  and  stag- 
gered off;  and  fell  again  to  the  next  shot,  squalling  and 
yelling.  Twice  this  was  repeated  ;  the  brute  being  one  of 
those  bears  which  greet  every  wound  with  a  great  outcry, 
and  sometimes  seem  to  lose  their  feet  when  hit — although 
they  will  occasionally  fight  as  savagely  as  their  more  silent 
brethren.  In  this  case  the  wounds  were  mortal,  and  the 
bear  died  before  reaching  the  edge  of  the  thicket. 

I  spent  much  of  the  fall  of  1889  hunting  on  the  head- 
waters of  the  Salmon  and  Snake  in  Idaho,  and  along  the 
Montana  boundary  line  from  the  Big  Hole  Basin  and  the 
head  of  the  Wisdom  River  to  the  neighborhood  of  Red 
Rock  Pass  and  to  the  north  and  west  of  Henry's  Lake. 
During  the  last  fortnight  my  companion  was  the  old  moun- 
tain man,  already  mentioned,  named  Griffeth  or  Griffin — 
I  cannot  tell  which,  as  he  was  always  called  either  "  Hank  " 
or  "  Griff."  He  was  a  crabbedly  honest  old  fellow,  and  a 
very  skilful  hunter ;  but  he  was  worn  out  with  age  and 
rheumatism,  and  his  temper  had  failed  even  faster  than  his 
bodily  strength.  He  showed  me  a  greater  variety  of  game 
than  I  had  ever  seen  before  in  so  short  a  time  ;  nor  did  I 
ever  before  or  after  make  so  successful  a  hunt.  But  he 
was  an  exceedingly  disagreeable  companion  on  account  of 
his  surly,  moody  ways.  I  generally  had  to  get  up  first,  to 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  303 

kindle  the  fire  and  make  ready  breakfast,  and  he  was  very 
quarrelsome.  Finally,  during  my  absence  from  camp  one 
day,  while  not  very  far  from  Red  Rock  pass,  he  found  my 
whiskey  flask,  which  I  kept  purely  for  emergencies,  and 
drank  all  the  contents.  When  I  came  back  he  was  quite 
drunk.  This  was  unbearable,  and  after  some  high  words 
I  left  him,  and  struck  off  homeward  through  the  woods  on 
my  own  account.  We  had  with  us  four  pack  and  saddle 
horses ;  and  of  these  I  took  a  very  intelligent  and  gentle 
little  bronco  mare,  which  possessed  the  invaluable  trait  of 
always  staying  near  camp,  even  when  not  hobbled.  I  was 
not  hampered  with  much  of  an  outfit,  having  only  my 
buffalo  sleeping-bag,  a  fur  coat,  and  my  washing  kit,  with 
a  couple  of  spare  pairs  of  socks  and  some  handkerchiefs. 
A  frying-pan,  some  salt,  flour,  baking-powder,  a  small 
chunk  of  salt  pork,  and  a  hatchet,  made  up  a  light  pack, 
which,  with  the  bedding,  I  fastened  across  the  stock  sad- 
dle by  means  of  a  rope  and  a  spare  packing  cinch.  My 
cartridges  and  knife  were  in  my  belt ;  my  compass  and 
matches,  as  always,  in  my  pocket.  I  walked,  while  the  lit- 
tle mare  followed  almost  like  a  dog,  often  without  my 
having  to  hold  the  lariat  which  served  as  halter. 

The  country  was  for  the  most  part  fairly  open,  as  I 
kept  near  the  foot-hills  where  glades  and  little  prairies 
broke  the  pine  forest.  The  trees  were  of  small  size.  There 
was  no  regular  trail,  but  the  course  was  easy  to  keep,  and 
I  had  no  trouble  of  any  kind  save  on  the  second  day. 
That  afternoon  I  was  following  a  stream  which  at  last 
"canyoned  up,"  that  is,  sank  to  the  bottom  of  a  canyon- 
like  ravine  impassable  for  a  horse.  I  started  up  a  side 


304  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

valley,  intending  to  cross  from  its  head  coulies  to  those  of 
another  valley  which  would  lead  in  below  the  canyon. 

However,  I  got  enmeshed  in  the  tangle  of  winding 
valleys  at  the  foot  of  the  steep  mountains,  and  as  dusk 
was  coming  on  I  halted  and  camped  in  a  little  open  spot 
by  the  side  of  a  small,  noisy  brook,  with  crystal  water. 
The  place  was  carpeted  with  soft,  wet,  green  moss,  dotted 
red  with  the  kinnikinnic  berries,  and  at  its  edge,  under 
the  trees  where  the  ground  was  dry,  I  threw  down  the 
buffalo  bed  on  the  mat  of  sweet-smelling  pine  needles. 
Making  camp  took  but  a  moment.  I  opened  the  pack, 
tossed  the  bedding  on  a  smooth  spot,  knee-haltered  the 
little  mare,  dragged  up  a  few  dry  logs,  and  then  strolled 
off,  rifle  on  shoulder,  through  the  frosty  gloaming,  to  see 
if  I  could  pick  up  a  grouse  for  supper. 

For  half  a  mile  I  walked  quickly  and  silently  over  the 
pine  needles,  across  a  succession  of  slight  ridges  separated 
by  narrow,  shallow  valleys.  The  forest  here  was  com- 
posed of  lodge-pole  pines,  which  on  the  ridges  grew  close 
together,  with  tall  slender  trunks,  while  in  the  valleys  the 
growth  was  more  open.  Though  the  sun  was  behind  the 
mountains  there  was  yet  plenty  of  light  by  which  to  shoot, 
but  it  was  fading  rapidly. 

At  last,  as  I  was  thinking  of  turning  towards  camp,  I 
stole  up  to  the  crest  of  one  of  the  ridges,  and  looked  over 
into  the  valley  some  sixty  yards  off.  Immediately  I  caught 
the  loom  of  some  large,  dark  object  ;  and  another  glance 
showed  me  a  big  grisly  walking  slowly  off  with  his  head 
down.  He  was  quartering  to  me,  and  I  fired  into  his 
flank,  the  bullet,  as  I  afterwards  found,  ranging  forward 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  305 

and  piercing  one  lung.  At  the  shot  he  uttered  a  loud, 
moaning  grunt  and  plunged  forward  at  a  heavy  gallop, 
while  I  raced  obliquely  down  the  hill  to  cut  him  off. 
After  going  a  few  hundred  feet  he  reached  a  laurel  thicket, 
some  thirty  yards  broad,  and  two  or  three  times  as  long 
which  he  did  not  leave.  I  ran  up  to  the  edge  and  there 
halted,  not  liking  to  venture  into  the  mass  of  twisted,  close- 
growing  stems  and  glossy  foliage.  Moreover,  as  I  halted, 
I  heard  him  utter  a  peculiar,  savage  kind  of  whine  from 
the  heart  of  the  brush.  Accordingly,  I  began  to  skirt  the 
edge,  standing  on  tiptoe  and  gazing  earnestly  to  see  if  I 
could  not  catch  a  glimpse  of  his  hide.  When  I  was  at 
the  narrowest  part  of  the  thicket,  he  suddenly  left  it 
directly  opposite,  and  then  wheeled  and  stood  broadside  to 
me  on  the  hill-side,  a  little  above.  He  turned  his  head 
stiffly  towards  me  ;  scarlet  strings  of  froth  hung  from  his 
lips  ;  his  eyes  burned  like  embers  in  the  gloom. 

I  held  true,  aiming  behind  the  shoulder,  and  my  bullet 
shattered  the  point  or  lower  end  of  his  heart,  taking  out  a 
big  nick.  Instantly  the  great  bear  turned  with  a  harsh 
roar  of  fury  and  challenge,  blowing  the  bloody  foam  from 
his  mouth,  so  that  I  saw  the  gleam  of  his  white  fangs  ; 
and  then  he  charged  straight  at  me,  crashing  and  bound- 
ing through  the  laurel  bushes,  so  that  it  was  hard  to  aim. 
I  waited  until  he  came  to  a  fallen  tree,  raking  him  as  he 
topped  it  with  a  ball,  which  entered  his  chest  and  went 
through  the  cavity  of  his  body,  but  he  neither  swerved 
nor  flinched,  and  at  the  moment  I  did  not  know  that  I 
had  struck  him.  He  came  steadily  on,  and  in  another 
second  was  almost  upon  me.  I  fired  for  his  forehead,  but 


20 


306  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

my  bullet  went  low,  entering  his  open  mouth,  smashing 
his  lower  jaw  and  going  into  the  neck.  I  leaped  to  one 
side  almost  as  I  pulled  trigger ;  and  through  the  hanging 
smoke  the  first  thing  I  saw  was  his  paw  as  he  made  a 
vicious  side  blow  at  me.  The  rush  of  his  charge  carried 
him  past.  As  he  struck  he  lurched  forward,  leaving  a 
pool  of  bright  blood  where  his  muzzle  hit  the  ground ; 
but  he  recovered  himself  and  made  two  or  three  jumps 
onwards,  while  I  hurriedly  jammed  a  couple  of  cartridges 
into  the  magazine,  my  rifle  holding  only  four,  all  of  which 
I  had  fired.  Then  he  tried  to  pull  up,  but  as  he  did  so 
his  muscles  seemed  suddenly  to  give  way,  his  head 
drooped,  and  he  rolled  over  and  over  like  a  shot  rabbit. 
Each  of  my  first  three  bullets  had  inflicted  a  mortal 
wound. 

It  was  already  twilight,  and  I  merely  opened  the  car- 
cass, and  then  trotted  back  to  camp.  Next  morning  I 
returned  and  with  much  labor  took  off  the  skin.  The  fur 
was  very  fine,  the  animal  being  in  excellent  trim,  and 
unusually  bright-colored.  Unfortunately,  in  packing  it 
out  I  lost  the  skull,  and  had  to  supply  its  place  with  one 
of  plaster.  The  beauty  of  the  trophy,  and  the  memory  of 
the  circumstances  under  which  I  procured  it,  make  me 
value  it  perhaps  more  highly  than  any  other  in  my  house. 

This  is  the  only  instance  in  which  I  have  been  regu- 
larly charged  by  a  grisly.  On  the  whole,  the  danger  of 
hunting  these  great  bears  has  been  much  exaggerated. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  when  white 
hunters  first  encountered  the  grisly,  he  was  doubtless  an 
exceedingly  savage  beast,  prone  to  attack  without  provo- 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  307 

cation,  and  a  redoubtable  foe  to  persons  armed  with  the 
clumsy,  small-bore,  muzzle-loading  rifles  of  the  day.  But 
at  present  bitter  experience  has  taught  him  caution.  He 
has  been  hunted  for  sport,  and  hunted  for  his  pelt,  and 
hunted  for  the  bounty,  and  hunted  as  a  dangerous  enemy 
to  stock,  until,  save  in  the  very  wildest  districts,  he  has 
learned  to  be  more  wary  than  a  deer,  and  to  avoid  man's 
presence  almost  as  carefully  as  the  most  timid  kind  of 
game.  Except  in  rare  cases  he  will  not  attack  of  his  own 
accord,  and,  as  a  rule,  even  when  wounded  his  object  is 
escape  rather  than  battle. 

Still,  when  fairly  brought  to  bay,  or  when  moved  by  a 
sudden  fit  of  ungovernable  anger,  the  grisly  is  beyond 
peradventure  a  very  dangerous  antagonist.  The  first 
shot,  if  taken  at  a  bear  a  good  distance  off  and  previously 
unwounded  and  unharried,  is  not  usually  fraught  with 
much  danger,  the  startled  animal  being  at  the  outset 
bent  merely  on  flight.  It  is  always  hazardous,  however, 
to  track  a  wounded  and  worried  grisly  into  thick  cover, 
and  the  man  who  habitually  follows  and  kills  this  chief  of 
American  game  in  dense  timber,  never  abandoning  the 
bloody  trail  whithersoever  it  leads,  must  show  no  small 
degree  of  skill  and  hardihood,  and  must  not  too  closely 
count  the  risk  to  life  or  limb.  Bears  differ  widely  in  tem- 
per, and  occasionally  one  may  be  found  who  will  not  show 
fight,  no  matter  how  much  he  is  bullied ;  but,  as  a  rule,  a 
hunter  must  be  cautious  in  meddling  with  a  wounded  ani- 
mal which  has  retreated  into  a  dense  thicket,  and  has 
been  once  or  twice  roused  ;  and  such  a  beast,  when  it  does 
turn,  will  usually  charge  again  and  again,  and  fight  to  the 


308  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

last  with  unconquerable  ferocity.  The  short  distance  at 
which  the  bear  can  be  seen  through  the  underbrush,  the 
fury  of  his  charge,  and  his  tenacity  of  life  make  it  neces- 
sary for  the  hunter  on  such  occasions  to  have  steady 
nerves  and  a  fairly  quick  and  accurate  aim.  It  is  always 
well  to  have  two  men  in  following  a  wounded  bear  under 
such  conditions.  This  is  not  necessary,  however,  and  a 
good  hunter,  rather  than  lose  his  quarry,  will,  under  ordi- 
nary circumstances,  follow  and  attack  it  no  matter  how 
tangled  the  fastness  in  which  it  has  sought  refuge ;  but 
he  must  act  warily  and  with  the  utmost  caution  and  reso- 
lution, if  he  wishes  to  escape  a  terrible  and  probably  fatal 
mauling.  An  experienced  hunter  is  rarely  rash,  and  never 
heedless ;  he  will  not,  when  alone,  follow  a  wounded  bear 
into  a  thicket,  if  by  the  exercise  of  patience,  skill,  and 
knowledge  of  the  game's  habits  he  can  avoid  the  neces- 
sity ;  but  it  is  idle  to  talk  of  the  feat  as  something  which 
ought  in  no  case  to  be  attempted.  While  danger  ought 
never  to  be  needlessly  incurred,  it  is  yet  true  that  the 
keenest  zest  in  sport  comes  from  its  presence,  and  from 
the  consequent  exercise  of  the  qualities  necessary  to  over- 
come it.  The  most  thrilling  moments  of  an  Amerian 
hunter's  life  are  those  in  which,  with  every  sense  on  the 
alert,  and  with  nerves  strung  to  the  highest  point,  he  is 
following  alone  into  the  heart  of  its  forest  fastness  the 
fresh  and  bloody  footprints  of  an  angered  grisly ;  and  no 
other  triumph  of  American  hunting  can  compare  with  the 
victory  to  be  thus  gained. 

These  big  bears  will  not  ordinarily  charge  from  a  dis- 
tance of  over  a  hundred  yards  ;  but  there  are  exceptions 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  309 

to  this  rule.  In  the  fall  of  1890  my  friend  Archibald 
Rogers  was  hunting  in  Wyoming,  south  of  the  Yellow- 
stone Park,  and  killed  seven  bears.  One,  an  old  he,  was 
out  on  a  bare  table-land,  grubbing  for  roots,  when  he  was 
spied.  It  was  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  hunters, 
who  were  on  a  high  mountain  slope,  examined  him  for 
some  time  through  their  powerful  glasses  before  making 
him  out  to  be  a  bear.  They  then  stalked  up  to  the  edge 
of  the  wood  which  fringed  the  table-land  on  one  side,  but 
could  get  no  nearer  than  about  three  hundred  yards,  the 
plains  being  barren  of  all  cover.  After  waiting  for  a 
couple  of  hours  Rogers  risked  the  shot,  in  despair  of  get- 
ting nearer,  and  wounded  the  bear,  though  not  very  seri- 
ously. The  animal  made  off,  almost  broadside  to,  and 
Rogers  ran  forward  to  intercept  it.  As  soon  as  it  saw 
him  it  turned  and  rushed  straight  for  him,  not  heeding 
his  second  shot,  and  evidently  bent  on  charging  home. 
Rogers  then  waited  until  it  was  within  twenty  yards,  and 
brained  it  with  his  third  bullet. 

In  fact  bears  differ  individually  in  courage  and  ferocity 
precisely  as  men  do,  or  as  the  Spanish  bulls,  of  which  it 
is  said  that  not  more  than  one  in  twenty  is  fit  to  stand  the 
combat  of  the  arena.  One  grisly  can  scarcely  be  bullied 
into  resistance  ;  the  next  may  fight  to  the  end,  against 
any  odds,  without  flinching,  or  even  attack  unprovoked. 
Hence  men  of  limited  experience  in  this  sport,  generaliz- 
ing from  the  actions  of  the  two  or  three  bears  each  has 
happened  to  see  or  kill,  often  reach  diametrically  opposite 
conclusions  as  to  the  fighting  temper  and  capacity  of  the 
quarry.  Even  old  hunters — who  indeed,  as  a  class,  are 


3*°  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

very  narrow-minded  and  opinionated — often  generalize 
just  as  rashly  as  beginners.  One  will  portray  all  bears 
as  very  dangerous  ;  another  will  speak  and  act  as  if  he 
deemed  them  of  no  more  consequence  than  so  many 
rabbits.  I  knew  one  old  hunter  who  had  killed  a  score 
without  ever  seeing  one  show  fight.  On  the  other  hand, 
Dr.  James  C.  Merrill,  U.  S.  A.,  who  has  had  about  as 
much  experience  with  bears  as  I  have  had,  informs  me 
that  he  has  been  charged  with  the  utmost  determination 
three  times.  In  each  case  the  attack  was  delivered  before 
the  bear  was  wounded  or  even  shot  at,  the  animal  being 
roused  by  the  approach  of  the  hunters  from  his  day  bed, 
and  charging  headlong  at  them  from  a  distance  of  twenty 
or  thirty  paces.  All  three  bears  were  killed  before  they 
could  do  any  damage.  There  was  a  very  remarkable 
incident  connected  with  the  killing  of  one  of  them.  It 
occurred  in  the  northern  spurs  of  the  Bighorn  range.  Dr. 
Merrill,  in  company  with  an  old  hunter,  had  climbed 
down  into  a  deep,  narrow  canyon.  The  bottom  was 
threaded  with  well-beaten  elk  trails.  While  following 
one  of  these  the  two  men  turned  a  corner  of  the  canyon 
and  were  instantly  charged  by  an  old  she-grisly,  so  close 
that  it  was  only  by  good  luck  that  one  of  the  hurried 
shots  disabled  her  and  caused  her  to  tumble  over  a  cut 
bank  where  she  was  easily  finished.  They  found  that 
she  had  been  lying  directly  across  the  game  trail,  on  a 
smooth  well  beaten  patch  of  bare  earth,  which  looked  as 
if  it  had  been  dug  up,  refilled,  and  trampled  down.  Look- 
ing curiously  at  this  patch  they  saw  a  bit  of  hide  only 
partially  covered  at  one  end  ;  digging  down  they  found 
the  body  of  a  well  grown  grisly  cub.  Its  skull  had  been 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  31 1 

crushed,  and  the  brains  licked  out,  and  there  were  signs  of 
other  injuries.  The  hunters  pondered  long  over  this 
strange  discovery,  and  hazarded  many  guesses  as  to  its 
meaning.  At  last  they  decided  that  probably  the  cub 
had  been  killed,  and  its  brains  eaten  out,  either  by  some 
old  male-grisly  or  by  a  cougar,  that  the  mother  had  re- 
turned and  driven  away  the  murderer,  and  that  she  had 
then  buried  the  body  and  lain  above  it,  waiting  to  wreak 
her  vengeance  on  the  first  passer-by. 

Old  Tazewell  Wood}',  during  his  thirty  years'  life  as  a 
hunter  in  the  Rockies  and  on  the  great  plains,  killed  very 
many  grislies.  He  always  exercised  much  caution  in 
dealing  with  them  ;  and,  as  it  happened,  he  was  by  some 
suitable  tree  in  almost  every  case  when  he  was  charged. 
He  would  accordingly  climb  the  tree  (a  practice  of  which 
I  do  not  approve  however)  ;  and  the  bear  would  look  up 
at  him  and  pass  on  without  stopping.  Once,  when  he 
was  hunting  in  the  mountains  with  a  companion,  the 
latter,  who  was  down  in  a  valley,  while  Woody  was  on 
the  hill-side,  shot  at  a  bear.  The  first  thing  Woody  knew 
the  wounded  grisly,  running  up-hill,  was  almost  on 
him  from  behind.  As  he  turned  it  seized  his  rifle  in  its 
jaws.  He  wrenched  the  rifle  round,  while  the  bear  still 
gripped  it,  and  pulled  trigger,  sending  a  bullet  into  its 
shoulder;  whereupon  it  struck  him  with  its  paw,  and 
knocked  him  over  the  rocks.  By  good  luck  he  fell  in  a 
snow  bank  and  was  not  hurt  in  the  least.  Meanwhile  the 
bear  went  on  and  they  never  got  it. 

Once  he  had  an  experience  with  a  bear  which  showed 
a  very  curious  mixture  of  rashness  and  cowardice.  He 
and  a  companion  were  camped  in  a  little  tepee  or  wigwam, 


312  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

with  a  bright  fire  in  front  of  it,  lighting  up  the  night. 
There  was  an  inch  of  snow  on  the  ground.  Just  after 
they  went  to  bed  a  grisly  came  close  to  camp.  Their  dog 
rushed  out  and  they  could  hear  it  bark  round  in  the  dark- 
ness for  nearly  an  hour  ;  then  the  bear  drove  it  off  and 
came  right  into  camp.  It  went  close  to  the  fire,  picking 
up  the  scraps  of  meat  and  bread,  pulled  a  haunch  of  veni- 
son down  from  a  tree,  and  passed  and  repassed  in  front 
of  the  tepee,  paying  no  heed  whatever  to  the  two  men, 
who  crouched  in  the  doorway  talking  to  one  another. 
Once  it  passed  so  close  that  Woody  could  almost  have 
touched  it.  Finally  his  companion  fired  into  it,  and  off 
it  ran,  badly  wounded,  without  an  attempt  at  retaliation. 
Next  morning  they  followed  its  tracks  in  the  snow,  and 
found  it  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  It  was  near  a  pine 
and  had  buried  itself  under  the  loose  earth,  pine  needles, 
and  snow  ;  Woody's  companion  almost  walked  over  it, 
and  putting  his  rifle  to  its  ear  blew  out  its  brains. 

In  all  his  experience  Woody  had  personally  seen  but 
four  men  who  were  badly  mauled  by  bears.  Three  of 
these  were  merely  wounded.  One  was  bitten  terribly  in 
the  back.  Another  had  an  arm  partially  chewed  off.  The 
third  was  a  man  named  George  Dow,  and  the  accident 
happened  to  him  on  the  Yellowstone,  about  the  year  1878. 
He  was  with  a  pack  animal  at  the  time,  leading  it  on  a 
trail  through  a  wood.  Seeing  a  big  she-bear  with  cubs 
he  yelled  at  her ;  whereat  she  ran  away,  but  only  to  cache 
her  cubs,  and  in  a  minute,  having  hidden  them,  came 
racing  back  at  him.  His  pack  animal  being  slow  he  started 
to  climb  a  tree  ;  but  before  he  could  get  far  enough  up 


Hunting  the  Grisly. 

she  caught  him,  almost  biting  a  piece  out  of  the  calf  of  his 
leg,  pulled  him  down,  bit  and  cuffed  him  two  or  three 
times,  and  then  went  on  her  way. 

The  only  time  Woody  ever  saw  a  man  killed  by  a  bear 
was  once  when  he  had  given  a  touch  of  variety  to  his 
life  by  shipping  on  a  New  Bedford  whaler  which  had 
touched  at  one  of  the  Puget  Sound  ports.  The  whaler 
went  up  to  a  part  of  Alaska  where  bears  were  very  plen- 
tiful and  bold.  One  day  a  couple  of  boats'  crews  landed  ; 
and  the  men,  who  were  armed  only  with  an  occasional 
harpoon  or  lance,  scattered  over  the  beach,  one  of  them, 
a  Frenchman,  wading  into  the  water  after  shell-fish.  Sud- 
denly a  bear  emerged  from  some  bushes  and  charged 
among  the  astonished  sailors,  who  scattered  in  every  di- 
rection ;  but  the  bear,  said  Woody,  "just  had  it  in  for 
that  Frenchman,"  and  went  straight  at  him.  Shrieking 
with  terror  he  retreated  up  to  his  neck  in  the  water ;  but 
the  bear  plunged  in  after  him,  caught  him,  and  disem- 
bowelled him.  One  of  the  Yankee  mates  then  fired  a 
bomb  lance  into  the  bear's  hips,  and  the  savage  beast 
hobbled  off  into  the  dense  cover  of  the  low  scrub,  where 
the  enraged  sailor  folk  were  unable  to  get  at  it. 

The  truth  is  that  while  the  grisly  generally  avoids  a 
battle  if  possible,  and  often  acts  with  great  cowardice,  it  is 
never  safe  to  take  liberties  with  him  ;  he  usually  fights 
desperately  and  dies  hard  when  wounded  and  cornered, 
and  exceptional  individuals  take  the  aggressive  on  small 
provocation. 

During  the  years  I  lived  on  the  frontier  I  carrie  in  con- 
tact with  many  persons  who  had  been  severely  mauled  or 


3H  The  Wilderness  Hunter, 

even  crippled  for  life  by  grislies  ;  and  a  number  of  cases 
where  they  killed  men  outright  were  also  brought  under 
my  ken.  Generally  these  accidents,  as  was  natural,  oc- 
curred to  hunters  who  had  roused  or  wounded  the  game. 
A  fighting  bear  sometimes  uses  his  claws  and  sometimes 
his  teeth.  I  have  never  known  one  to  attempt  to  kill  an 
antagonist  by  hugging,  in  spite  of  the  popular  belief  to 
this  effect ;  though  he  will  sometimes  draw  an  enemy  tow- 
ards him  with  his  paws  the  better  to  reach  him  with  his 
teeth,  and  to  hold  him  so  that  he  cannot  escape  from  the 
bitting.  Nor  does  the  bear  often  advance  on  his  hind  legs  to 
the  attack  ;  though,  if  the  man  has  come  close  to  him  in  thick 
underbrush,  or  has  stumbled  on  him  in  his  lair  unawares, 
he  will  often  rise  up  in  this  fashion  and  strike  a  single 
blow.  He  will  also  rise  in  clinching  with  a  man  on  horse- 
back. In  1882  a  mounted  Indian  was  killed  in  this  mari- 
ner on  one  of  the  river  bottoms  some  miles  below  where 
my  ranch  house  now  stands,  not  far  from  the  junction  of 
the  Beaver  and  Little  Missouri.  The  bear  had  been 
hunted  into  a  thicket  by  a  band  of  Indians,  in  whose  com- 
pany my  informant,  a  white  squaw-man,  with  whom  I  af- 
terward did  some  trading,  was  travelling.  One  of  them 
in  the  excitement  of  the  pursuit  rode  across  the  end  of  the 
thicket ;  as  he  did  so  the  great  beast  sprang  at  him  with 
wonderful  quickness,  rising  on  its  hind  legs,  and  knocking 
over  the  horse  and  rider  with  a  single  sweep  of  its  terri- 
ble fore-paws.  It  then  turned  on  the  fallen  man  and  tore 
him  open,  and  though  the  other  Indians  came  promptly 
to  his  rescue  and  slew  his  assailant,  they  were  not  in  time 
to  save  their  comrade's  life. 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  3J5 

A  bear  is  apt  to  rely  mainly  on  his  teeth  or  claws  ac- 
cording to  whether  his  efforts  are  directed  primarily  to 
killing  his  foe  or  to  making  good  his  own  escape.  In  the 
latter  event  he  trusts  chiefly  to  his  claws.  If  cornered,  he 
of  course  makes  a  rush  for  freedom,  and  in  that  case  he 
downs  any  man  who  is  in  his  way  with  a  sweep  of  his 
great  paw,  but  passes  on  without  stopping  to  bite  him.  If 
while  sleeping  or  resting  in  thick  brush  some  one  suddenly 
stumbles  on  him  close  up  he  pursues  the  same  course,  less 
from  anger  than  from  fear,  being  surprised  and  startled 
Moreover,  if  attacked  at  close  quarters  by  men  and  dogs 
he  strikes  right  and  left  in  defence. 

Sometimes  what  is  called  a  charge  is  rather  an  effort  to 
get  away.  In  localities  where  he  has  been  hunted,  a  bear, 
like  every  other  kind  of  game,  is  always  on  the  look-out 
for  an  attack,  and  is  prepared  at  any  moment  for  immedi- 
ate flight.  He  seems  ever  to  have  in  his  mind,  whether 
feeding,  sunning  himself,  or  merely  roaming  around,  the 
direction — usually  towards  the  thickest  cover  or  most 
broken  ground — in  which  he  intends  to  run  if  molested. 
When  shot  at  he  instantly  starts  towards  this  place  ;  or  he 
may  be  so  confused  that  he  simply  runs  he  knows  not 
whither  ;  and  in  either  event  he  may  take  a  line  that  leads 
almost  directly  to  or  by  the  hunter,  although  he  had  at 
first  no  thought  of  charging.  In  such  a  case  he  usually 
strikes  a  single  knock-down  blow  and  gallops  on  without 
halting,  though  that  one  blow  may  have  taken  life.  If 
the  claws  are  long  and  fairly  sharp  (as  in  early  spring,  or 
even  in  the  fall,  if  the  animal  has  been  working  over  soft 
ground)  they  add  immensely  to  the  effect  of  the  blow,  for 


316  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

they  cut  like  blunt  axes.  Often,  however,  late  in  the  sea- 
son, and  if  the  ground  has  been  dry  and  hard,  or  rocky, 
the  claws  are  worn  down  nearly  to  the  quick,  and  the  blow 
is  then  given  mainly  with  the  under  side  of  the  paw ; 
although  even  under  this  disadvantage  a  thump  from  a 
big  bear  will  down  a  horse  or  smash  in  a  man's  breast. 
The  hunter  Hofer  once  lost  a  horse  in  this  manner.  He 
shot  at  and  wounded  a  bear  which  rushed  off,  as  ill  luck 
would  have  it,  past  the  place  where  his  horse  was  picketed  ; 
probably  more  in  fright  than  in  anger  it  struck  the  poor 
beast  a  blow  which,  in  the  end,  proved  mortal. 

If  a  bear  means  mischief  and  charges  not  to  escape  but 
to  do  damage,  its  aim  is  to  grapple  with  or  throw  down  its 
foe  and  bite  him  to  death.  The  charge  is  made  at  a  gal- 
lop, the  animal  sometimes  coming  on  silently,  with  the 
mouth  shut,  and  sometimes  with  the  jaws  open,  the  lips 
drawn  back  and  teeth  showing,  uttering  at  the  same  time 
a  succession  of  roars  or  of  savage  rasping  snarls.  Certain 
bears  charge  without  any  bluster  and  perfectly  straight ; 
while  others  first  threaten  and  bully,  and  even  when 
charging  stop  to  growl,  shake  the  head,  and  bite  at  a  bush 
or  knock  holes  in  the  ground  with  their  fore-paws.  Again, 
some  of  them  charge  home  with  a  ferocious  resolution 
which  their  extreme  tenacity  of  life  renders  especially 
dangerous  ;  while  others  can  be  turned  or  driven  back  even 
by  a  shot  which  is  not  mortal.  They  show  the  same  vari- 
ability in  their  behavior  when  wounded.  Often  a  big 
bear,  especially  if  charging,  will  receive  a  bullet  in  perfect 
silence,  without  flinching  or  seeming  to  pay  any  heed  to  it ; 
while  another  will  cry  out  and  tumble  about,  and  if  char- 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  31? 

ging,  even  though  it  may  not  abandon  the  attack,  will 
pause  for  a  moment  to  whine  or  bite  at  the  wound. 

Sometimes  a  single  bite  causes  death.  One  of  the 
most  successful  bear  hunters  I  ever  knew,  an  old  fellow 
whose  real  name  I  never  heard  as  he  was  always  called 
Old  Ike,  was  killed  in  this  way  in  the  spring  or  early  sum- 
mer of  1886  on  one  of  the  head-waters  of  the  Salmon.  He 
was  a  very  good  shot,  had  killed  nearly  a  hundred  bears  with 
the  rifle,  and,  although  often  charged,  had  never  met  with 
any  accident,  so  that  he  had  grown  somewhat  careless.  On 
the  day  in  question  he  had  met  a  couple  of  mining  prospec- 
tors and  was  travelling  with  them,  when  a  grisly  crossed 
his  path.  The  old  hunter  immediately  ran  after  it,  rapidly 
gaining,  as  the  bear  did  not  hurry  when  it  saw  itself  pur- 
sued, but  slouched  slowly  forwards,  occasionally  turning 
its  head  to  grin  and  growl.  It  soon  went  into  a  dense 
grove  of  young  spruce,  and  as  the  hunter  reached  the  edge 
it  charged  fiercely  out.  He  fired  one  hasty  shot,  evidently 
wounding  the  animal,  but  not  seriously  enough  to  stop  or 
cripple  it ;  and  as  his  two  companions  ran  forward  they 
saw  the  bear  seize  him  with  its  wide-spread  jaws,  forcing 
him  to  the  ground.  They  shouted  and  fired,  and  the  beast 
abandoned  the  fallen  man  on  the  instant  and  sullenly  re- 
treated into  the  spruce  thicket,  whither  they  dared  not 
follow  it.  Their  friend  was  at  his  last  gasp  ;  for  the  whole 
side  of  the  chest  had  been  crushed  in  by  the  one  bite,  the 
lungs  showing  between  the  rent  ribs. 

Very  often,  however,  a  bear  does  not  kill  a  man  by 
one  bite,  but  after  throwing  him  lies  on  him,  biting  him  to 
death.  Usually,  if  no  assistance  is  at  hand,  such  a  man  is 


3l8  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

doomed  ;  although  if  he  pretends  to  be  dead,  and  has  the 
nerve  to  lie  quiet  under  very  rough  treatment,  it  is  just 
possible  that  the  bear  may  leave  him  alive,  perhaps  after 
half  burying  what  it  believes  to  be  the  body.  In  a  very 
few  exceptional  instances  men  of  extraordinary  prowess 
with  the  knife  have  succeeded  in  beating  off  a  bear,  and 
even  in  mortally  wounding  it,  but  in  most  cases  a  single- 
handed  struggle,  at  close  quarters,  with  a  grisly  bent  on 
mischief,  means  death. 

Occasionally  the  bear,  although  vicious,  is  also  fright- 
ened, and  passes  on  after  giving  one  or  two  bites ;  and 
frequently  a  man  who  is  knocked  down  is  rescued  by  his 
friends  before  he  is  killed,  the  big  beast  mayhap  using 
his  weapons  with  clumsiness.  So  a  bear  may  kill  a  foe 
with  a  single  blow  of  its  mighty  fore-arm,  either  crushing 
in  the  head  or  chest  by  sheer  force  of  sinew,  or  else  tear- 
ing open  the  body  with  its  formidable  claws  ;  and  so  on 
the  other  hand  he  may,  and  often  does,  merely  disfigure 
or  maim  the  foe  by  a  hurried  stroke.  Hence  it  is  com- 
mon to  see  men  who  have  escaped  the  clutches  of  a  grisly, 
but  only  at  the  cost  of  features  marred  beyond  recogni- 
tion, or  a  body  rendered  almost  helpless  for  life.  Almost 
every  old  resident  of  western  Montana  or  northern  Idaho 
has  known  two  or  three  unfortunates  who  have  suffered 
in  this  manner.  I  have  myself  met  one  such  man  in 
Helena,  and  another  in  Missoula ;  both  were  living  at 
least  as  late  as  1889,  the  date  at  which  I  last  saw  them. 
One  had  been  partially  scalped  by  a  bear's  teeth ;  the 
animal  was  very  old  and  so  the  fangs  did  not  enter  the 
skull.  The  other  had  been  bitten  across  the  face,  and  the 


Hunting  the  Grisly. 

wounds  never  entirely  healed,  so  that  his  disfigured  visage 
was  hideous  to  behold. 

Most  of  these  accidents  occur  in  following  a  wounded 
or  worried  bear  into  thick  cover ;  and  under  such  circum- 
stances an  animal  apparently  hopelessly  disabled,  or  in 
the  death  throes,  may  with  a  last  effort  kill  one  or  more 
of  its  assailants.  In  1874  my  wife's  uncle,  Captain  Alex- 
ander Moore,  U.  S.  A.,  and  my  friend  Captain  Bates, 
with  some  men  of  the  2d  and  3d  Cavalry,  were  scout- 
ing in  Wyoming,  near  the  Freezeout  Mountains.  One 
morning  they  roused  a  bear  in  the  open  prairie  and  fol- 
lowed it  at  full  speed  as  it  ran  towards  a  small  creek.  At 
one  spot  in  the  creek  beavers  had  built  a  dam,  and  as 
usual  in  such  places  there  was  a  thick  growth  of  bushes 
and  willow  saplings.  Just  as  the  bear  reached  the  edge 
of  this  little  jungle  it  was  struck  by  several  balls,  both  of 
its  fore-legs  being  broken.  Nevertheless,  it  managed  to 
shove  itself  forward  on  its  hind-legs,  and  partly  rolled, 
partly  pushed  itself  into  the  thicket,  the  bushes  though 
low  being  so  dense  that  its  body  was  at  once  completely 
hidden.  The  thicket  was  a  mere  patch  of  brush,  not 
twenty  yards  across  in  any  direction.  The  leading 
troopers  reached  the  edge  almost  as  the  bear  tumbled  in. 
One  of  them,  a  tall  and  powerful  man  named  Miller,  in- 
stantly dismounted  and  prepared  to  force  his  way  in 
among  the  dwarfed  willows,  which  were  but  breast-high. 
Among  the  men  who  had  ridden  up  were  Moore  and 
Bates,  and  also  the  two  famous  scouts,  Buffalo  Bill — long 
a  companion  of  Captain  Moore, — and  California  Joe,  Cus- 
ter's  faithful  follower.  California  Joe  had  spent  almost 


320  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

all  his  life  on  the  plains  and  in  the  mountains,  as  a 
hunter  and  Indian  fighter  ;  and  when  he  saw  the  trooper 
about  to  rush  into  the  thicket  he  called  out  to  him  not  to 
do  so,  warning  him  of  the  danger.  But  the  man  was  a 
very  reckless  fellow  and  he  answered  by  jeering  at  the 
old  hunter  for  his  over-caution  in  being  afraid  of  a  crip- 
pled bear.  California  Joe  made  no  further  effort  to  dis- 
suade him,  remarking  quietly  :  "  Very  well,  sonny,  go  in  ; 
it's  your  own  affair."  Miller  then  leaped  off  the  bank  on 
which  they  stood  and  strode  into  the  thicket,  holding  his 
rifle  at  the  port.  Hardly  had  he  taken  three  steps  when 
the  bear  rose  in  front  of  him,  roaring  with  rage  and  pain. 
It  was  so  close  that  the  man  had  no  chance  to  fire.  Its 
fore-arms  hung  useless  and  as  it  reared  unsteadily  on  its 
hind-legs,  lunging  forward  at  him,  he  seized  it  by  the  ears 
and  strove  to  hold  it  back.  His  strength  was  very  great, 
and  he  actually  kept  the  huge  head  from  his  face  and 
braced  himself  so  that  he  was  not  overthrown ;  but  the 
bear  twisted  its  muzzle  from  side  to  side,  biting  and  tear- 
ing the  man's  arms  and  shoulders.  Another  soldier 
jumping  down  slew  the  beast  with  a  single  bullet,  and 
rescued  his  comrade  ;  but  though  alive  he  was  too  badly 
hurt  to  recover  and  died  after  reaching  the  hospital.  Buf- 
falo Bill  was  given  the  bear-skin,  and  I  believe  has  it 
now. 

The  instances  in  which  hunters  who  have  rashly  fol- 
lowed grislies  into  thick  cover  have  been  killed  or  severely 
mauled  might  be  multiplied  indefinitely.  I  have  myself 
known  of  eight  cases  in  which  men  have  met  their  deaths 
in  this  manner. 


Hunting  the  Grisly,  321 

It  occasionally  happens  that  a  cunning  old  grisly 
will  lie  so  close  that  the  hunter  almost  steps  on  him  ;  and 
he  then  rises  suddenly  with  a  loud,  coughing  growl  and 
strikes  down  or  seizes  the  man  before  the  latter  can  fire 
off  his  rifle.  More  rarely  a  bear  which  is  both  vicious 
and  crafty  deliberately  permits  the  hunter  to  approach 
fairly  near  to,  or  perhaps  pass  by,  its  hiding-place,  and 
then  suddenly  charges  him  with  such  rapidity  that  he 
has  barely  time  for  the  most  hurried  shot.  The  danger 
in  such  a  case  is  of  course  great. 

Ordinarily,  however,  even  in  the  brush,  the  bear's 
object  is  to  slink  away,  not  to  fight,  and  very  many  are 
killed  even  under  the  most  unfavorable  circumstances 
without  accident.  If  an  unwounded  bear  thinks  itself  un- 
observed it  is  not  apt  to  attack  ;  and  in  thick  cover  it  is 
really  astonishing  to  see  how  one  of  these  large  animals 
can  hide,  and  how  closely  it  will  lie  when  there  is  danger. 
About  twelve  miles  below  my  ranch  there  are  some  large 
river  bottoms  and  creek  bottoms  covered  with  a  matted 
mass  of  cottonwood,  box-alders,  bullberry  bushes,  rose- 
bushes, ash,  wild  plums,  and  other  bushes.  These  bot- 
toms have  harbored  bears  ever  since  I  first  saw  them  ; 
but  though,  often  in  company  with  a  large  party,  I  have 
repeatedly  beaten  through  them,  and  though  we  must  at 
times  have  been  very  near  indeed  to  the  game,  we  never 
so  much  as  heard  it  run. 

When  bears  are  shot,  as  they  usually  must  be,  in  open 
timber  or  on  the  bare  mountain,  the  risk  is  very  much 
less.  Hundreds  may  thus  be  killed  with  comparatively 
little  danger ;  yet  even  under  these  circumstances  they 


322  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

will  often  charge,  and  sometimes  make  their  charge  good. 
The  spice  of  danger,  especially  to  a  man  armed  with  a 
good  repeating  rifle,  is  only  enough  to  add  zest  to  the 
chase,  and  the  chief  triumph  is  in  outwitting  the  wary 
quarry  and  getting  within  range.  Ordinarily  the  only 
excitement  is  in  the  stalk,  the  bear  doing  nothing  more 
than  keep  a  keen  look-out  and  manifest  the  utmost  anxiety 
to  get  away.  As  is  but  natural,  accidents  occasionally 
occur ;  yet  they  are  usually  due  more  to  some  failure  in 
man  or  weapon  than  to  the  prowess  of  the  bear.  A  good 
hunter  whom  I  once  knew,  at  a  time  when  he  was  living 
in  Butte,  received  fatal  injuries  from  a  bear  he  attacked 
in  open  woodland.  The  beast  charged  after  the  first 
shot,  but  slackened  its  pace  on  coming  almost  up  to  the 
man.  The  latter's  gun  jammed,  and  as  he  was  endeavor- 
ing to  work  it  he  kept  stepping  slowly  back,  facing  the 
bear  which  followed  a  few  yards  distant,  snarling  and 
threatening.  Unfortunately  while  thus  walking  back- 
wards the  man  struck  a  dead  log  and  fell  over  it,  where- 
upon the  beast  instantly  sprang  on  him  and  mortally 
wounded  him  before  help  arrived. 

On  rare  occasions  men  who  are  not  at  the  time  hunt- 
ing it  fall  victims  to  the  grisly.  This  is  usually  because 
they  stumble  on  it  unawares  and  the  animal  attacks  them 
more  in  fear  than  in  anger.  One  such  case,  resulting 
fatally,  occurred  near  my  own  ranch.  The  man  walked 
almost  over  a  bear  while  crossing  a  little  point  of  brush, 
in  a  bend  of  the  river,  and  was  brained  with  a  single  blow 
of  the  paw.  In  another  instance  which  came  to  my  knowl- 
edge the  man  escaped  with  a  shaking  up,  and  without 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  323 

even  a  fright.  His  name  was  Perkins,  and  he  was  out 
gathering  huckleberries  in  the  woods  on  a  mountain  side 
near  Pend'Oreille  Lake.  Suddenly  he  was  sent  flying 
head  over  heels,  by  a  blow  which  completely  knocked  the 
breath  out  of  his  body  ;  and  so  instantaneous  was  the 
whole  affair  that  all  he  could  ever  recollect  about  it  was 
getting  a  vague  glimpse  of  the  bear  just  as  he  was  bowled 
over.  When  he  came  to  he  found  himself  lying  some 
distance  down  the  hill-side,  much  shaken,  and  without  his 
berry  pail,  which  had  rolled  a  hundred  yards  below  him, 
but  not  otherwise  the  worse  for  his  misadventure ;  while 
the  footprints  showed  that  the  bear,  after  delivering  the 
single  hurried  stroke  at  the  unwitting  disturber  of  its  day- 
dreams, had  run  off  up-hill  as  fast  as  it  was  able. 

A  she-bear  with  cubs  is  a  proverbially  dangerous 
beast ;  yet  even  under  such  conditions  different  grislies 
act  in  directly  opposite  ways.  Some  she-grislies,  when 
their  cubs  are  young,  but  are  able  to  follow  them  about, 
seem  always  worked  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  anxious 
and  jealous  rage,  so  that  they  are  likely  to  attack  unpro- 
voked any  intruder  or  even  passer-by.  Others  when 
threatened  by  the  hunter  leave  their  cubs  to  their  fate 
without  a  visible  qualm  of  any  kind,  and  seem  to  think 
only  of  their  own  safety. 

In  1882  Mr.  Caspar  W.  Whitney,  now  of  New  York, 
met  with  a  very  singular  adventure  with  a  she-bear  and 
cub.  He  was  in  Harvard  when  I  was,  but  left  it  and,  like 
a  good  many  other  Harvard  men  of  that  time,  took  to 
cow-punching  in  the  West.  He  went  on  a  ranch  in  Rio 
Arriba  County,  New  Mexico,  and  was  a  keen  hunter, 


324  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

especially  fond  of  the  chase  of  cougar,  bear,  and  elk.  One 
day  while  riding  a  stony  mountain  trail  he  saw  a  little 
grisly  cub  watching  him  from  the  chaparral  above,  and 
he  dismounted  to  try  to  capture  it ;  his  rifle  was  a  40-90 
Sharp's.  Just  as  he  neared  the  cub,  he  heard  a  growl  and 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  old  she,  and  he  at  once  turned 
up-hill,  and  stood  under  some  tall,  quaking  aspens.  From 
this  spot  he  fired  at  and  wounded  the  she,  then  seventy 
yards  off;  and  she  charged  furiously.  He  hit  her  again, 
but  as  she  kept  coming  like  a  thunderbolt  he  climbed 
hastily  up  the  aspen,  dragging  his  gun  with  him,  as  it  had 
a  strap.  When  the  bear  reached  the  foot  of  the  aspen 
she  reared,  and  bit  and  clawed  the  slender  trunk,  shaking 
it  for  a  moment,  and  he  shot  her  through  the  eye.  Off 
she  sprang  for  a  few  yards,  and  then  spun  round  a  dozen 
times,  as  if  dazed  or  partially  stunned ;  for  the  bullet  had 
not  touched  the  brain.  Then  the  vindictive  and  resolute 
beast  came  back  to  the  tree  and  again  reared  up  against 
it ;  this  time  to  receive  a  bullet  that  dropped  her  lifeless. 
Mr.  Whitney  then  climbed  down  and  walked  to  where  the 
cub  had  been  sitting  as  a  looker-on.  The  little  animal 
did  not  move  until  he  reached  out  his  hand  ;  when  it  sud- 
denly struck  at  him  like  an  angry  cat,  dove  into  the 
bushes,  and  was  seen  no  more. 

In  the  summer  of  1888  an  old-time  trapper,  named 
Charley  Norton,  while  on  Loon  Creek,  of  the  middle  fork 
of  the  Salmon,  meddled  with  a  she  and  her  cubs.  She 
ran  at  him  and  with  one  blow  of  her  paw  almost  knocked 
off  his  lower  jaw ;  yet  he  recovered,  and  was  alive  when  I 
last  heard  of  him. 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  325 

Yet  the  very  next  spring  the  cowboys  with  my  own 
wagon  on  the  Little  Missouri  round-up  killed  a  mother 
bear  which  made  but  little  more  fight  than  a  coyote.  She 
had  two  cubs,  and  was  surprised  in  the  early  morning,  on 
the  prairie  far  from  cover.  There  were  eight  or  ten  cow- 
boys together  at  the  time,  just  starting  off  on  a  long  circle, 
and  of  course  they  all  got  down  their  ropes  in  a  second, 
and  putting  spurs  to  their  fiery  little  horses  started  toward 
the  bears  at  a  run,  shouting  and  swinging  their  loops 
round  their  heads.  For  a  moment  the  old  she  tried  to 
bluster  and  made  a  half-hearted  threat  of  charging ;  but 
her  courage  failed  before  the  rapid  onslaught  of  her  yell- 
ing, rope-swinging  assailants ;  and  she  took  to  her  heels 
and  galloped  off,  leaving  the  cubs  to  shift  for  themselves. 
The  cowboys  were  close  behind,  however,  and  after  half 
a  mile's  run  she  bolted  into  a  shallow  cave  or  hole  in  the 
side  of  a  butte,  where  she  stayed  cowering  and  growling, 
until  one  of  the  men  leaped  off  his  horse,  ran  up  to  the 
edge  of  the  hole,  and  killed  her  with  a  single  bullet  from 
his  revolver,  fired  so  close  that  the  powder  burned  her 
hair.  The  unfortunate  cubs  were  roped,  and  then  so 
dragged  about  that  they  were  speedily  killed  instead  of 
being  brought  alive  to  camp,  as  ought  to  have  been 
done. 

In  the  cases  mentioned  above  the  grisly  attacked  only 
after  having  been  itself  assailed,  or  because  it  feared  an 
assault,  for  itself  or  for  its  young.  In  the  old  days,  how- 
ever, it  may  almost  be  said  that  a  grisly  was  more  apt  to 
attack  than  to  flee.  Lewis  and  Clarke  and  the  early 
explorers  who  immediately  succeeded  them,  as  well  as  the 


3 26  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

first  hunters  and  trappers,  the  "  Rocky  Mountain  men  "  of 
the  early  decades  of  the  present  century,  were  repeatedly 
assailed  in  this  manner  ;  and  not  a  few  of  the  bear  hunters 
of  that  period  found  that  it  was  unnecessary  to  take  much 
trouble  about  approaching  their  quarry,  as  the  grisly  was 
usually  prompt  to  accept  the  challenge  and  to  advance  of 
its  own  accord,  as  soon  as  it  discovered  the  foe.  All  this 
is  changed  now.  Yet  even  at  the  present  day  an  occa- 
sional vicious  old  bear  may  be  found,  in  some  far  off 
and  little  trod  fastness,  which  still  keeps  up  the  former 
habit  of  its  kind.  All  old  hunters  have  tales  of  this  sort 
to  relate,  the  prowess,  cunning,  strength,  and  ferocity  of 
the  grisly  being  favorite  topics  for  camp-fire  talk  through- 
out the  Rockies  ;  but  in  most  cases  it  is  not  safe  to  accept 
these  stories  without  careful  sifting. 

Still,  it  is  just  as  unsafe  to  reject  them  all.  One  of 
my  own  cowboys  was  once  attacked  by  a  grisly,  seem- 
ingly in  pure  wantonness.  He  was  riding  up  a  creek 
bottom,  and  had  just  passed  a  clump  of  rose  and  bull- 
berry  bushes  when  his  horse  gave  such  a  leap  as  almost 
to  unseat  him,  and  then  darted  madly  forward.  Turning 
round  in  the  saddle  to  his  utter  astonishment  he  saw  a 
large  bear  galloping  after  him,  at  the  horse's  heels.  For 
a  few  jumps  the  race  was  close,  then  the  horse  drew  away 
and  the  bear  wheeled  and  went  into  a  thicket  of  wild 
plums.  The  amazed  and  indignant  cowboy,  as  soon  as 
he  could  rein  in  his  steed,  drew  his  revolver  and  rode  back 
to  and  around  the  thicket,  endeavoring  to  provoke  his 
late  pursuer  to  come  out  and  try  conclusions  on  more 
equal  terms  ;  but  prudent  Ephraim  had  apparently  re- 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  327 

pented  of  his  freak  of  ferocious  bravado,   and  declined 
to  leave  the  secure  shelter  of  the  jungle. 

Other  attacks  are  of  a  much  more  explicable  nature. 
Mr.  Huffman,  the  photographer,  of  Miles  City,  informed 
me  that  once  when  butchering  some  slaughtered  elk  he 
was  charged  twice  by  a  she-bear  and  two  well-grown  cubs. 
This  was  a  piece  of  sheer  bullying,  undertaken  solely  with 
the  purpose  of  driving  away  the  man  and  feasting  on  the 
carcasses  ;  for  in  each  charge  the  three  bears,  after 
advancing  with  much  blustering,  roaring,  and  growling, 
halted  just  before  coming  to  close  quarters.  In  another 
instance  a  gentleman  I  once  knew,  a  Mr.  S.  Carr,  was 
charged  by  a  grisly  from  mere  ill  temper  at  being  dis- 
turbed at  meal-time.  The  man  was  riding  up  a  valley  ; 
and  the  bear  was  at  an  elk  carcass,  near  a  clump  of  firs. 
As  soon  as  it  became  aware  of  the  approach  of  the  horse- 
man, while  he  was  yet  over  a  hundred  yards  distant,  it 
jumped  on  the  carcass,  looked  at  him  a  moment,  and  then 
ran  straight  for  him.  There  was  no  particular  reason 
why  it  should  have  charged,  for  it  was  fat  and  in  good 
trim,  though  when  killed  its  head  showed .  scars  made  by 
the  teeth  of  rival  grislies.  Apparently  it  had  been  living 
so  well,  principally  on  flesh,  that  it  had  become  quarrel- 
some ;  and  perhaps  its  not  over  sweet  disposition  had 
been  soured  by  combats  with  others  of  its  own  kind.  In 
yet  another  case,  a  grisly  charged  with  even  less  excuse. 
An  old  trapper,  from  whom  I  occasionally  bought  fur, 
was  toiling  up  a  mountain  pass  when  he  spied  a  big  bear 
sitting  on  his  haunches  on  the  hill-side  above.  The 
trapper  shouted  and  waved  his  cap  ;  whereupon,  to  his 


328  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

amazement,  the  bear  uttered  a  loud  "  wough  "  and  charged 
straight  down  on  him — only  to  fall  a  victim  to  misplaced 
boldness. 

I  am  even  inclined  to  think  that  there  have  been 
wholly  exceptional  occasions  when  a  grisly  has  attacked  a 
man  with  the  deliberate  purpose  of  making  a  meal  of 
him  ;  when,  in  other  words,  it  has  started  on  the  career 
of  a  man-eater.  At  least,  on  any  other  theory  I  find  it 
difficult  to  account  for  an  attack  which  once  came  to  my 
knowledge.  I  was  at  Sand  Point,  on  Pend'Oreille  Lake, 
and  met  some  French  and  Meti  trappers,  then  in  town 
with  their  bales  of  beaver,  otter,  and  sable.  One  of 
them,  who  gave  his  name  as  Baptiste  Lamoche,  had  his 
head  twisted  over  to  one  side,  the  result  of  the  bite  of  a 
bear.  When  the  accident  occurred  he  was  out  on  a  trap- 
ping trip  with  two  companions.  They  had  pitched  camp 
right  on  the  shore  of  a  cove  in  a  little  lake,  and  his  com- 
rades were  off  fishing  in  a  dugout  or  pirogue.  He  himself 
was  sitting  near  the  shore,  by  a  little  lean-to,  watching 
some  beaver  meat  which  was  sizzling  over  the  dying 
embers.  Suddenly,  and  without  warning,  a  great  bear, 
which  had  crept  silently  up  beneath  the  shadows  of  the 
tall  evergreens,  rushed  at  him,  with  a  guttural  roar,  and 
seized  him  before  he  could  rise  to  his  feet.  It  grasped 
him  with  its  jaws  at  the  junction  of  the  neck  and  shoulder, 
making  the  teeth  meet  through  bone,  sinew,  and  muscle  ; 
and  turning,  racked  off  towards  the  forest,  dragging  with 
it  the  helpless  and  paralyzed  victim.  Luckily  the  two  men 
in  the  canoe  had  just  paddled  round  the  point,  in  sight 
of,  and  close  to,  camp.  The  man  in  the  bow,  seeing  the 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  329 

plight  of  their  comrade,  seized  his  rifle  and  fired  at  the 
bear.  The  bullet  went  through  the  beast's  lungs,  and  it 
forthwith  dropped  its  prey,  and  running  off  some  two  hun- 
dred yards,  lay  down  on  its  side  and  died.  The  rescued 
man  recovered  full  health  and  strength,  but  never  again 
carried  his  head  straight. 

Old  hunters  and  mountain-men  tell  many  stories,  not 
only  of  malicious  grislies  thus  attacking  men  in  camp,  but 
also  of  their  even  dogging  the  footsteps  of  some  solitary 
hunter  and  killing  him  when  the  favorable  opportunity 
occurs.  Most  of  these  tales  are  mere  fables ;  but  it  is 
possible  that  in  altogether  exceptional  instances  they  rest 
on  a  foundation  of  fact.  One  old  hunter  whom  I  knew 
told  me  such  a  story.  He  was  a  truthful  old  fellow,  and 
there  was  no  doubt  that  he  believed  what  he  said,  and 
that  his  companion  was  actually  killed  by  a  bear ;  but  it  is 
probable  that  he  was  mistaken  in  reading  the  signs  of  his 
comrade's  fate,  and  that  the  latter  was  not  dogged  by  the 
bear  at  all,  but  stumbled  on  him  and  was  slain  in  the  sur- 
prise of  the  moment. 

At  any  rate,  cases  of  wanton  assaults  by  grislies  are 
altogether  out  of  the  common.  The  ordinary  hunter  may 
live  out  his  whole  life  in  the  wilderness  and  never  know 
aught  of  a  bear  attacking  a  man  unprovoked ;  and  the 
great  majority  of  bears  are  shot  under  circumstances  of 
no  special  excitement,  as  they  either  make  no  fight  at  all, 
or,  if  they  do  fight,  are  killed  before  there  is  any  risk  of 
their  doing  damage.  If  surprised  on  the  plains,  at  some 
distance  from  timber  or  from  badly  broken  ground,  it  is 
no  uncommon  feat  for  a  single  horseman  to  kill  them 


33°  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

with  a  revolver.  Twice  of  late  years  it  has  been  per- 
formed in  the  neighborhood  of  my  ranch.  In  both  in- 
stances the  men  were  not  hunters  out  after  game,  but 
simply  cowboys,  riding  over  the  range  in  early  morning 
in  pursuance  of  their  ordinary  duties  among  the  cattle.  I 
knew  both  men  and  have  worked  with  them  on  the 
round-up.  Like  most  cowboys  they  carried  44-calibre 
Colt  revolvers,  and  were  accustomed  to  and  fairly  expert 
in  their  use,  and  they  were  mounted  on  ordinary  cow- 
ponies — quick,  wiry,  plucky  little  beasts.  In  one  case  the 
bear  was  seen  from  quite  a  distance,  lounging  across  a 
broad  table-land.  The  cowboy,  by  taking  advantage  of  a 
winding  and  rather  shallow  coulie,  got  quite  close  to  him. 
He  then  scrambled  out  of  the  coulie,  put  spurs  to  his 
pony,  and  raced  up  to  within  fifty  yards  of  the  astonished 
bear  ere  the  latter  quite  understood  what  it  was  that  was 
running  at  him  through  the  gray  dawn.  He  made  no  at- 
tempt at  fight,  but  ran  at  top  speed  towards  a  clump  of 
brush  not  far  off  at  the  head  of  a  creek.  Before  he  could 
reach  it,  however,  the  galloping  horseman  was  alongside, 
and  fired  three  shots  into  his  broad  back.  He  did  not 
turn,  but  ran  on  into  the  bushes  and  then  fell  over  and 
died. 

In  the  other  case  the  cowboy,  a  Texan,  was  mounted 
on  a  good  cutting  pony,  a  spirited,  handy,  agile  little  ani- 
mal, but  excitable,  and  with  a  habit  of  dancing,  which  ren- 
dered it  difficult  to  shoot  from  its  back.  The  man  was 
with  the  round-up  wagon,  and  had  been  sent  off  by  him- 
self to  make  a  circle  through  some  low,  barren  buttes, 
where  it  was  not  thought  more  than  a  few  head  of  stock 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  33 1 

would  be  found.  On  rounding  the  corner  of  a  small 
washout  he  almost  ran  over  a  bear  which  was  feeding  on 
the  carcass  of  a  steer  that  had  died  in  an  alkali  hole. 
After  a  moment  of  stunned  surprise  the  bear  hurled  him-_ 
self  at  the  intruder  with  furious  impetuosity ;  while  the 
cowboy,  wheeling  his  horse  on  its  haunches  and  dashing 
in  the  spurs,  carried  it  just  clear  of  his  assailant's  headlong 
rush.  After  a  few  springs  he  reined  in  and  once  more 
wheeled  half  round,  having  drawn  his  revolver,  only  to 
find  the  bear  again  charging  and  almost  on  him.  This 
time  he  fired  into  it,  near  the  joining  of  the  neck  and 
shoulder,  the  bullet  going  downwards  into  the  chest  hol- 
low ;  and  again  by  a  quick  dash  to  one  side  he  just  avoided 
the  rush  of  the  beast  and  the  sweep  of  its  mighty  fore- 
paw.  The  bear  then  halted  for  a  minute,  and  he  rode 
close  by  it  at  a  run,  firing  a  couple  of  shots,  which  brought 
on  another  resolute  charge.  The  ground  was  somewhat 
rugged  and  broken,  but  his  pony  was  as  quick  on  its  feet 
as  a  cat,  and  never  stumbled,  even  when  going  at  full  speed 
to  avoid  the  bear's  first  mad  rushes.  It  speedily  became 
so  excited,  however,  as  to  render  it  almost  impossible  for 
the  rider  to  take  aim.  Sometimes  he  would  come  up  close 
to  the  bear  and  wait  for  it  to  charge,  which  it  would  do, 
first  at  a  trot,  or  rather  rack,  and  then  at  a  lumbering  but 
swift  gallop ;  and  he  would  fire  one  or  two  shots  before 
being  forced  to  run.  At  other  times,  if  the  bear  stood 
still  in  a  good  place,  he  would  run  by  it,  firing  as  he  rode. 
He  spent  many  cartridges,  and  though  most  of  them  were 
wasted,  occasionally  a  bullet  went  home.  The  bear  fought 
with  the  most  savage  courage,  champing  its  bloody  jaws, 


33 2  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

roaring  with  rage,  and  looking  the  very  incarnation  of 
evil  fury.  For  some  minutes  it  made  no  effort  to  flee, 
either  charging  or  standing  at  bay.  Then  it  began  to 
move  slowly  towards  a  patch  of  ash  and  wild  plums  in  the 
head  of  a  coulie,  some  distance  off.  Its  pursuer  rode 
after  it,  and  when  close  enough  would  push  by  it  and  fire, 
while  the  bear  would  spin  quickly  round  and  charge  as 
fiercely  as  ever,  though  evidently  beginning  to  grow  weak. 
At  last,  when  still  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  from  cover 
the  man  found  he  had  used  up  all  his  cartridges,  and  then 
merely  followed  at  a  safe  distance.  The  bear  no  longer 
paid  heed  to  him,  but  walked  slowly  forwards,  swaying  its 
great  head  from  side  to  side,  while  the  blood  streamed 
from  between  its  half-opened  jaws.  On  reaching  the  cover 
he  could  tell  by  the  waving  of  the  bushes  that  it  walked 
to  the  middle  and  then  halted.  A  few  minutes  after- 
wards some  of  the  other  cowboys  rode  up,  having  been 
attracted  by  the  incessant  firing.  They  surrounded  the 
thicket,  firing  and  throwing  stones  into  the  bushes. 
Finally,  as  nothing  moved,  they  ventured  in  and  found 
the  indomitable  grisly  warrior  lying  dead. 

Cowboys  delight  in  nothing  so  much  as  the  chance  to 
show  their  skill  as  riders  and  ropers  ;  and  they  always  try 
to  ride  down  and  rope  any  wild  animal  they  come  across 
in  favorable  ground  and  close  enough  up.  If  a  party  of 
them  meets  a  bear  in  the  open  they  have  great  fun  ;  and 
the  struggle  between  the  shouting,  galloping  rough-riders 
and  their  shaggy  quarry  is  full  of  wild  excitement  and 
not  unaccompanied  by  danger.  The  bear  often  throws 
the  noose  from  his  head  so  rapidly  that  it  is  a  difficult 


Hunting  the  Grisly.  333 

matter  to  catch  him  ;  and  his  frequent  charges  scatter 
his  tormentors  in  every  direction  while  the  horses  become 
wild  with  fright  over  the  roaring,  bristling  beast — for 
horses  seem  to  dread  a  bear  more  than  any  other  animal. 
If  the  bear  cannot  reach  cover,  however,  his  fate  is  sealed. 
Sooner  or  later,  the  noose  tightens  over  one  leg,  or  per- 
chance over  the  neck  and  fore-paw,  and  as  the  rope 
straightens  with  a  "  pluck,"  the  horse  braces  itself  desper- 
ately and  the  bear  tumbles  over.  Whether  he  regains 
his  feet  or  not  the  cowboy  keeps  the  rope  taut ;  soon 
another  noose  tightens  over  a  leg,  and  the  bear  is  speedily 
rendered  helpless. 

I  have  known  of  these  feats  being  performed  several 
times  in  northern  Wyoming,  although  never  in  the  im- 
mediate neighborhood  of  my  ranch.  Mr.  Archibald 
Roger's  cowhands  have  in  this  manner  caught  several 
bears,  on  or  near  his  ranch  on  the  Gray  Bull,  which  flows 
into  the  Bighorn  ;  and  those  of  Mr.  G.  B.  Grinnell  have 
also  occasionally  done  so.  Any  set  of  moderately  good 
ropers  and  riders,  who  are  accustomed  to  back  one 
another  up  and  act  together,  can  accomplish  the  feat  if 
they  have  smooth  ground  and  plenty  of  room.  It  is, 
however,  indeed  a  feat  of  skill  and  daring  for  a  single 
man  ;  and  yet  I  have  known  of  more  than  one  instance 
in  which  it  has  been  accomplished  by  some  reckless 
knight  of  the  rope  and  the  saddle.  One  such  occurred  in 
1887  on  the  Flathead  Reservation,  the  hero  being  a  half- 
breed ;  and  another  in  1890  at  the  mouth  of  the  Bighorn, 
where  a  cowboy  roped,  bound,  and  killed  a  large  bear 
single-handed. 


334  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

My  friend  General  "Red"  Jackson,  of  Bellemeade, 
in  the  pleasant  mid-county  of  Tennessee,  once  did  a  feat 
which  casts  into  the  shade  even  the  feats  of  the  men  of 
the  lariat.  General  Jackson,  who  afterwards  became  one 
of  the  ablest  and  most  renowned  of  the  Confederate 
cavalry  leaders,  was  at  the  time  a  young  officer  in  the 
Mounted  Rifle  Regiment,  now  known  as  the  3d  United 
States  Cavalry.  It  was  some  years  before  the  Civil  War, 
and  the  regiment  was  on  duty  in  the  Southwest,  then  the 
debatable  land  of  Comanche  and  Apache.  While  on  a 
scout  after  hostile  Indians,  the  troops  in  their  march 
roused  a  large  grisly  which  sped  off  across  the  plain  in 
front  of  them.  Strict  orders  had  been  issued  against 
firing  at  game,  because  of  the  nearness  of  the  Indians. 
Young  Jackson  was  a  man  of  great  strength,  a  keen 
swordsman,  who  always  kept  the  finest  edge  on  his  blade, 
and  he  was  on  a  swift  and  mettled  Kentucky  horse,  which 
luckily  had  but  one  eye.  Riding  at  full  speed  he  soon 
overtook  the  quarry.  As  the  horse  hoofs  sounded  nearer, 
the  grim  bear  ceased  its  flight,  and  whirling  round  stood 
at  bay,  raising  itself  on  its  hind-legs  and  threatening  its 
pursuer  with  bared  fangs  and  spread  claws.  Carefully 
riding  his  horse  so  that  its  blind  side  should  be  towards 
the  monster,  the  cavalryman  swept  by  at  a  run,  handling 
his  steed  with  such  daring  skill  that  he  just  cleared  the 
blow  of  the  dreaded  fore-paw,  while  with  one  mighty 
sabre  stroke  he  cleft  the  bear's  skull,  slaying  the  grinning 
beast  as  it  stood  upright. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE   COUGAR. 

NO  animal  of  the  chase  is  so  difficult  to  kill  by  fair 
still-hunting  as  the  cougar — that  beast  of  many 
names,  known  in  the  East  as  panther  and  painter, 
in  the  West  as  mountain  lion,  in  the  Southwest  as  Mexi- 
can lion,  and  in  the  southern  continent  as  lion  and  puma. 
Without  hounds  its  pursuit  is  so  uncertain  that  from 
the  still-hunter's  standpoint  it  hardly  deserves  to  rank  as 
game  at  all — though,  by  the  way,  it  is  itself  a  more  skil- 
ful still-hunter  than  any  human  rival.  It  prefers  to  move 
abroad  by  night  or  at  dusk ;  and  in  the  daytime  usually 
lies  hid  in  some  cave  or  tangled  thicket  where  it  is  abso- 
lutely impossible  even  to  stumble  on  it  by  chance.  It  is 
a  beast  of  stealth  and  rapine  ;  its  great,  velvet  paws,  never 
make  a  sound,  and  it  is  always  on  the  watch  whether  for 
prey  or  for  enemies,  while  it  rarely  leaves  shelter  even 
when  it  thinks  itself  safe.  Its  soft,  leisurely  movements 
and  uniformity  of  color  make  it  difficult  to  discover  at 
best,  and  its  extreme  watchfulness  helps  it  ;  but  it  is 
the  cougar's  reluctance  to  leave  cover  at  any  time,  its 
habit  of  slinking  off  through  the  brush,  instead  of  running 

335 


336  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

in  the  open,  when  startled,  and  the  way  in  which  it  lies 
motionless  in  its  lair  even  when  a  man  is  within  twenty 
yards,  that  render  it  so  difficult  to  still-hunt. 

In  fact  it  is  next  to  impossible  with  any  hope  of  suc- 
cess regularly  to  hunt  the  cougar  without  dogs  or  bait. 
Most  cougars  that  are  killed  by  still-hunters  are  shot  by 
accident  while  the  man  is  after  other  game.  This  has  been 
my  own  experience.  Although  not  common,  cougars  are 
found  near  my  ranch,  where  the  ground  is  peculiarly  fav- 
orable for  the  solitary  rifleman  ;  and  for  ten  years  I  have, 
off  and  on,  devoted  a  day  or  two  to  their  pursuit ;  but 
never  successfully.  One  December  a  large  cougar  took 
up  his  abode  on  a  densely  wooded  bottom  two  miles  above 
the  ranch  house.  I  did  not  discover  his  existence  until  I 
went  there  one  evening  to  kill  a  deer,  and  found  that  he 
had  driven  all  the  deer  off  the  bottom,  having  killed  sev- 
eral, as  well  as  a  young  heifer.  Snow  was  falling  at  the 
time,  but  the  storm  was  evidently  almost  over ;  the  leaves 
were  all  off  the  trees  and  bushes  ;  and  I  felt  that  next  day 
there  would  be  such  a  chance  to  follow  the  cougar  as  fate 
rarely  offered.  In  the  morning  by  dawn  I  was  at  the  bot- 
tom, and  speedily  found  his  trail.  Following  it  I  came 
across  his  bed,  among  some  cedars  in  a  dark,  steep  gorge, 
where  the  buttes  bordered  the  bottom.  He  had  evidently 
just  left  it,  and  I  followed  his  tracks  all  day.  But  I  never 
caught  a  glimpse  of  him,  and  late  in  the  afternoon  I 
trudged  wearily  homewards.  When  I  went  out  next 
morning  I  found  that  as  soon  as  I  abandoned  the  chase, 
my  quarry,  according  to  the  uncanny  habit  sometimes  dis- 
played by  his  kind,  coolly  turned  likewise,  and  deliberately 


The  Cougar.  337 

dogged  my  footsteps  to  within  a  mile  of  the  ranch  house ; 
his  round  footprints  being  as  clear  as  writing  in  the  snow. 

This  was  the  best  chance  of  the  kind  that  I  ever  had ; 
but  again  and  again  I  have  found  fresh  signs  of  cougarr 
such  as  a  lair  which  they  had  just  left,  game  they  had 
killed,  or  one  of  our  venison  caches  which  they  had  robbed, 
and  have  hunted  for  them  all  day  without  success.  My 
failures  were  doubtless  due  in  part  to  various  shortcomings 
in  hunter' s-craft  on  my  own  part ;  but  equally  without 
doubt  they  were  mainly  due  to  the  quarry's  wariness  and 
its  sneaking  ways. 

I  have  seen  a  wild  cougar  alive  but  twice,  and  both 
times  by  chance.  On  one  occasion  one  of  my  men,  Mer* 
rifield,  and  I  surprised  one  eating  a  skunk  in  a  bullberry 
patch  ;  and  by  our  own  bungling  frightened  it  away  from 
its  unsavory  repast  without  getting  a  shot. 

On  the  other  occasion  luck  befriended  me.  I  was  with 
a  pack  train  in  the  Rockies,  and  one  day,  feeling  lazy,  and 
as  we  had  no  meat  in  camp,  I  determined  to  try  for  deer 
by  lying  in  wait  beside  a  recently  travelled  game  trail. 
The  spot  I  chose  was  a  steep,  pine-clad  slqpe  leading  down 
to  a  little  mountain  lake.  I  hid  behind  a  breastwork  of 
rotten  logs,  with  a  few  young  evergreens  in  front — an  ex- 
cellent ambush.  A  broad  game  trail  slanted  down  the  hill 
directly  past  me.  I  lay  perfectly  quiet  for  about  an  hour, 
listening  to  the  murmur  of  the  pine  forests,  and  the  occa- 
sional call  of  a  jay  or  woodpecker,  and  gazing  eagerly 
along  the  trail  in  the  waning  light  of  the  late  afternoon. 
Suddenly,  without  noise  or  warning  of  any  kind,  a  cougar 
stood  in  the  trail  before  me.  The  unlocked  for  and  un- 


338  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

heralded  approach  of  the  beast  was  fairly  ghost-like.  With 
its  head  lower  than  its  shoulders,  and  its  long  tail  twitch- 
ing, it  slouched  down  the  path,  treading  as  softly  as  a  kit- 
ten. I  waited  until  it  had  passed  and  then  fired  into  the 
short  ribs,  the  bullet  ranging  forward.  Throwing  its  tail 
up  in  the  air,  and  giving  a  bound,  the  cougar  galloped  off 
over  a  slight  ridge.  But  it  did  not  go  far ;  within  a  hun- 
dred yards  I  found  it  stretched  on  its  side,  its  jaws  still 
working  convulsively. 

The  true  way  to  hunt  the  cougar  is  to  follow  it  with 
dogs.  If  the  chase  is  conducted  in  this  fashion,  it  is  very 
exciting,  and  resembles  on  a  larger  scale  the  ordinary 
method  of  hunting  the  wildcat  or  small  lynx,  as  practised 
by  the  sport-loving  planters  of  the  southern  States.  With 
a  very  little  training,  hounds  readily  and  eagerly  pursue 
the  cougar,  showing  in  this  kind  of  chase  none  of  the  fear 
and  disgust  they  are  so  prone  to  exhibit  when  put  on  the 
trail  of  the  certainly  no  more  dangerous  wolf.  The  cougar, 
when  the  hounds  are  on  its  track,  at  first  runs,  but  when 
hard-pressed  takes  to  a  tree,  or  possibly  comes  to  bay  in 
thick  cover.  Its  attention  is  then  so  taken  up  with  the 
hounds  that  it  can  usually  be  approached  and  shot  without 
much  difficulty  ;  though  some  cougars  break  bay  when  the 
hunters  come  near,  and  again  make  off,  when  they  can  only 
be  stopped  by  many  large  and  fierce  hounds.  Hounds 
are  often  killed  in  these  fights  ;  and  if  hungry  a  cougar 
will  pounce  on  any  dog  for  food  ;  yet,  as  I  have  elsewhere 
related,  I  know  of  one  instance  in  which  a  small  pack  of 
big,  savage  hounds  killed  a  cougar  unassisted.  General 
Wade  Hampton,  who  with  horse  and  hound  has  been  the 


HEAD   OF    COUGAR. 


SHOT    SEPTEMBER,    1889. 


The  Cougar.  339 

mightiest  hunter  America  has  ever  seen,  informs  me  that 
he  has  killed  with  his  pack  some  sixteen  cougars,  during 
the  fifty  years  he  has  hunted  in  South  Carolina  and  Mis- 
sissippi. I  believe  they  were  all  killed  in  the  latter  State. 
General  Hampton's  hunting  has  been  chiefly  for  bear  and 
deer,  though  his  pack  also  follows  the  lynx  and  the  gray 
fox  ;  and,  of  course,  if  good  fortune  throws  either  a  wolf 
or  a  cougar  in  his  way  it  is  followed  as  the  game  of  all 
others.  All  the  cougars  he  killed  were  either  treed  or 
brought  to  bay  in  a  canebrake  by  the  hounds  ;  and  they 
often  handled  the  pack  very  roughly  in  the  death  struggle. 
He  found  them  much  more  dangerous  antagonists  than 
the  black  bear  when  assailed  with  the  hunting  knife,  a 
weapon  of  which  he  was  very  fond.  However,  if  his  pack 
had  held  a  few  very  large,  savage  dogs,  put  in  purely  for 
fighting  when  the  quarry  was  at  bay,  I  think  the  danger 
would  have  been  minimized. 

General  Hampton  followed  his  game  on  horseback ; 
but  in  following  the  cougar  with  dogs  this  is  by  no  means 
always  necessary.  Thus  Col.  Cecil  Clay,  of  Washington, 
killed  a  cougar  in  West  Virginia,  on  foot  with  only  three 
or  four  hounds.  The  dogs  took  the  cold  trail,  and  he  had 
to  run  many  miles  over  the  rough,  forest-clad  mountains 
after  them.  Finally  they  drove  the  cougar  up  a  tree  ; 
where  he  found  it,  standing  among  the  branches,  in  a  half- 
erect  position,  its  hind-feet  on  one  limb  and  its  fore-feet 
on  another,  while  it  glared  down  at  the  dogs,  and  switched 
its  tail  from  side  to  side.  He  shot  it  through  both  shoul- 
ders, and  down  it  came  in  a  heap,  whereupon  the  dogs 
jumped  in  and  worried  it,  for  its  fore-legs  were  useless, 


340  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

though  it  managed  to  catch  one  dog  in  its  jaws  and  bite 
him  severely. 

A  wholly  exceptional  instance  of  the  kind  was  related 
to  me  by  my  old  hunting  friend  Willis.  In  his  youth,  in 
southwest  Missouri,  he  knew  a  half-witted  " poor  white" 
who  was  very  fond  of  hunting  coons.  He  hunted  at 
night,  armed  with  an  axe,  and  accompanied  by  his  dog 
Penny,  a  large,  savage,  half-starved  cur.  One  dark  night 
the  dog  treed  an  animal  which  he  could  not  see  ;  so  he 
cut  down  the  tree,  and  immediately  Penny  jumped  in  and 
grabbed  the  beast.  The  man  sung  out  "  Hold  on,  Penny," 
seeing  that  the  dog  had  seized  some  large,  wild  animal ;  the 
next  moment  the  brute  knocked  the  dog  endways,  and  at 
the  same  instant  the  man  split  open  its  head  with  the  axe. 
Great  was  his  astonishment,  and  greater  still  the  astonish- 
ment of  the  neighbors  next  day  when  it  was  found  that 
he  had  actually  killed  a  cougar.  These  great  cats  often 
take  to  trees  in  a  perfectly  foolish  manner.  My  friend, 
the  hunter  Woody,  in  all  his  thirty  years'  experience  in 
the  wilds  never  killed  but  one  cougar.  He  was  lying  out 
in  camp  with  two  dogs  at  the  time ;  it  was  about  mid- 
night, the  fire  was  out,  and  the  night  was  pitch-black.  He 
was  roused  by  the  furious  barking  of  his  two  dogs,  who 
had  charged  into  the  gloom,  and  were  apparently  baying 
at  something  in  a  tree  close  by.  He  kindled  the  fire,  and 
to  his  astonishment  found  the  thing  in  the  tree  to  be  a 
cougar.  Coming  close  underneath  he  shot  it  with  his 
revolver ;  thereupon  it  leaped  down,  ran  some  forty 
yards,  and  climbed  up  another  tree,  where  it  died  among 
the  branches. 


The  Cougar.  341 

If  cowboys  come  across  a  cougar  in  open  ground  they 
invariably  chase  and  try  to  rope  it — as  indeed  they  do 
with  any  wild  animal.  I  have  known  several  instances  of 
cougars  being  roped  in  this  way  ;  in  one  the  animal  was 
brought  into  camp  alive  by  two  strapping  cowpunchers. 

The  cougar  sometimes  stalks  its  prey,  and  sometimes 
lies  in  wait  for  it  beside  a  game-trail  or  drinking  pool — 
very  rarely  indeed  does  it  crouch  on  the  limb  of  a  tree. 
When  excited  by  the  presence  of  game  it  is  sometimes 
very  bold.  Willis  once  fired  at  some  bighorn  sheep,  on  a 
steep  mountain-side  ;  he  missed,  and  immediately  after  his 
shot,  a  cougar  made  a  dash  into  the  midst  of  the  flying 
band,  in  hopes  to  secure  a  victim.  The  cougar  roams 
over  long  distances,  and  often  changes  its  hunting  ground, 
perhaps  remaining  in  one  place  two  or  three  months, 
until  the  game  is  exhausted,  and  then  shifting  to  another. 
When  it  does  not  lie  in  wait  it  usually  spends  most  of  the 
night,  winter  and  summer,  in  prowling  restlessly  around 
the  places  where  it  thinks  it  may  come  across  prey,  and  it 
will  patiently  follow  an  animal's  trail.  There  is  no  kind 
of  game,  save  the  full-grown  grisly  and  buffalo,  which  it 
does  not  at  times  assail  and  master.  It  readily  snaps  up 
grisly  cubs  or  buffalo  calves ;  and  in  at  least  one  instance, 
I  have  known  of  it  springing  on,  slaying,  and  eating  a  full- 
grown  wolf.  I  presume  the  latter  was  taken  by  surprise. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  cougar  itself  has  to  fear  the  big 
timber  wolves  when  maddened  by  the  winter  hunger  and 
gathered  in  small  parties ;  while  a  large  grisly  would  of 
course  be  an  overmatch  for  it  twice  over,  though  its 
superior  agility  puts  it  beyond  the  grisly's  power  to  harm 


342  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

it,  unless  by  some  unlucky  chance  taken  in  a  cave.  Nor 
could  a  cougar  overcome  a  bull  moose,  or  a  bull  elk  either, 
if  the  latter' s  horns  were  grown,  save  by  taking  it  una- 
wares. By  choice,  with  such  big  game,  its  victims  are  the 
cows  and  young.  The  prong-horn  rarely  comes  within 
reach  of  its  spring ;  but  it  is  the  dreaded  enemy  of  big- 
horn, white  goat,  and  every  kind  of  deer,  while  it  also 
preys  on  all  the  smaller  beasts,  such  as  foxes,  coons,  rab- 
bits, beavers,  and  even  gophers,  rats,  and  mice.  It  some- 
times makes  a  thorny  meal  of  the  porcupine,  and  if 
sufficiently  hungry  attacks  and  eats  its  smaller  cousin  the 
lynx.  It  is  not  a  brave  animal  ;  nor  does  it  run  its  prey 
down  in  open  chase.  It  always  makes  its  attacks  by 
stealth,  and  if  possible  from  behind,  and  relies  on  two  or 
three  tremendous  springs  to  bring  it  on  the  doomed  crea- 
ture's back.  It  uses  its  claws  as  well  as  its  teeth  in  hold- 
ing and  killing  the  prey.  If  possible  it  always  seizes  a 
large  animal  by  the  throat,  whereas  the  wolf's  point  of 
attack  is  more  often  the  haunch  or  flank.  Small  deer  or 
sheep  it  will  often  knock  over  and  kill,  merely  using  its 
big  paws  ;  sometimes  it  breaks  their  necks.  It  has  a  small 
head  compared  to  the  jaguar,  and  its  bite  is  much  less 
dangerous.  Hence,  as  compared  to  its  larger  and  bolder 
relative,  it  places  more  trust  in  its  claws  and  less  in  its  teeth. 
Though  the  cougar  prefers  woodland,  it  is  not  neces- 
sarily a  beast  of  the  dense  forests  only  ;  for  it  is  found  in 
all  the  plains  country,  living  in  the  scanty  timber  belts 
which  fringe  the  streams,  or  among  the  patches  of  brush 
in  the  Bad  Lands.  The  persecution  of  hunters  however 
always  tends  to  drive  it  into  the  most  thickly  wooded  and 


The  Cougar.  343 

broken  fastnesses  of  the  mountains.  The  she  has  from 
one  to  three  kittens,  brought  forth  in  a  cave  or  a  secluded 
lair,  under  a  dead  log  or  in  very  thick  brush.  It  is  said 
that  the  old  he's  kill  the  small  male  kittens  when  they  get 
a  chance.  They  certainly  at  times  during  the  breeding 
season  fight  desperately  among  themselves.  Cougars  are 
very  solitary  beasts ;  it  is  rare  to  see  more  than  one  at  a 
time,  and  then  only  a  mother  and  young,  or  a  mated  male 
and  female.  While  she  has  kittens,  the  mother  is  doubly 
destructive  to  game.  The  young  begin  to  kill  for  them- 
selves very  early.  The  first  fall,  after  they  are  born,  they 
attack  large  game,  and  from  ignorance  are  bolder  in 
making  their  attacks  than  their  parents ;  but  they  are 
clumsy  and  often  let  the  prey  escape.  Like  all  cats, 
cougars  are  comparatively  easy  to  trap,  much  more  so  than 
beasts  of  the  dog  kind,  such  as  the  fox  and  wolf. 

They  are  silent  animals ;  but  old  hunters  say  that  at 
mating  time  the  males  call  loudly,  while  the  females  have 
a  very  distinct  answer.  They  are  also  sometimes  noisy  at 
other  seasons.  I  am  not  sure  that  I  ever  heard  one  ;  but 
one  night,  while  camped  in  a  heavily  timbered  coulie  near 
Kildeer  Mountains,  where,  as  their  footprints  showed,  the 
beasts  were  plentiful,  I  twice  heard  a  loud,  wailing  scream 
ringing  through  the  impenetrable  gloom  which  shrouded 
the  hills  around  us.  My  companion,  an  old  plainsman, 
said  that  this  was  the  cry  of  the  cougar  prowling  for  its 
prey.  Certainly  no  man  could  well  listen  to  a  stranger 
and  wilder  sound. 

Ordinarily  the  rifleman  is  in  no  danger  from  a  hunted 
cougar ;  the  beast's  one  idea  seems  to  be  flight,  and  even 


344  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

if  its  assailant  is  very  close,  it  rarely  charges  if  there  is  any 
chance  for  escape.  Yet  there  are  occasions  when  it  will 
show  fight.  In  the  spring  of  1890,  a  man  with  whom  I 
had  more  than  once  worked  on  the  round-up — though  I 
never  knew  his  name — was  badly  mauled  by  a  cougar  near 
my  ranch.  He  was  hunting  with  a  companion  and  they 
unexpectedly  came  on  the  cougar  on  a  shelf  of  sandstone 
above  their  heads,  only  some  ten  feet  off.  It  sprang  down 
on  the  man,  mangled  him  with  teeth  and  claws  for  a 
moment,  and  then  ran  away.  Another  man  I  knew,  a 
hunter  named  Ed.  Smith,  who  had  a  small  ranch  near 
Helena,  was  once  charged  by  a  wounded  cougar ;  he 
received  a  couple  of  deep  scratches,  but  was  not  seriously 
hurt. 

Many  old  frontiersmen  tell  tales  of  the  cougar's  occa- 
sionally itself  making  the  attack,  and  dogging  to  his  death 
some  unfortunate  wayfarer.  Many  others  laugh  such  tales 
to  scorn.  It  is  certain  that  if  such  attacks  occur  they  are 
altogether  exceptional,  being  indeed  of  such  extreme 
rarity  that  they  may  be  entirely  disregarded  in  practice. 
I  should  have  no  more  hesitation  in  sleeping  out  in  a  wood 
where  there  were  cougars,  or  walking  through  it  after 
nightfall,  than  I  should  have  if  the  cougars  were  tomcats. 

Yet  it  is  foolish  to  deny  that  in  exceptional  instances 
attacks  may  occur.  Cougars  vary  wonderfully  in  size,  and 
no  less  in  temper.  Indeed  I  think  that  by  nature  they  are 
as  ferocious  and  bloodthirsty  as  they  are  cowardly ;  and 
that  their  habit  of  sometimes  dogging  wayfarers  for  miles 
is  due  to  a  desire  for  bloodshed  which  they  lack  the 
courage  to  realize.  In  the  old  days,  when  all  wild  beasts 


The  Cougar.  345 

were  less  shy  than  at  present,  there  was  more  danger  from 
the  cougar  ;  and  this  was  especially  true  in  the  dark  cane- 
brakes  of  some  of  the  southern  States,  where  the  man  a 
cougar  was  most  likely  to  encounter  was  a  nearly  naked 
and  unarmed  negro.  General  Hampton  tells  me  that  near 
his  Mississippi  plantation,  many  years  ago,  a  negro  who 
was  one  of  a  gang  engaged  in  building  a  railroad  through 
low  and  wet  ground  was  waylaid  and  killed  by  a  cougar 
late  one  night  as  he  was  walking  alone  through  the  swamp. 

I  knew  two  men  in  Missoula  who  were  once  attacked 
by  cougars  in  a  very  curious  manner.  It  was  in 
January,  and  they  were  walking  home  through  the  snow 
after  a  hunt,  each  carrying  on  his  back  the  saddle, 
haunches,  and  hide  of  a  deer  he  had  slain.  Just  at  dusk, 
as  they  were  passing  through  a  narrow  ravine,  the  man  in 
front  heard  his  partner  utter  a  sudden  loud  call  for  help. 
Turning,  he  was  dumbfounded  to  see  the  man  lying  on  his 
face  in  the  snow,  with  a  cougar  which  had  evidently  just 
knocked  him  down  standing  over  him,  grasping  the  deer 
meat ;  while  another  cougar  was  galloping  up  to  assist. 
Swinging  his  rifle  round  he  shot  the  first  one  in  the  brain, 
and  it  dropped  motionless,  whereat  the  second  halted, 
wheeled,  and  bounded  into  the  woods.  His  companion 
was  not  in  the  least  hurt  or  even  frightened,  though 
greatly  amazed.  The  cougars  were  not  full  grown,  but 
young  of  the  year. 

Now  in  this  case  I  do  not  believe  the  beasts  had  any 
real  intention  of  attacking  the  men.  They  were  young 
animals,  bold,  stupid,  and  very  hungry.  The  smell  of 
the  raw  meat  excited  them  beyond  control,  and  they 


346  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

probably  could  not  make  out  clearly  what  the  men  were, 
as  they  walked  bent  under  their  burdens,  with  the  deer 
skins  on  their  backs.  Evidently  the  cougars  were  only 
trying  to  get  at  the  venison. 

In  1886  a  cougar  killed  an  Indian  near  Flathead  Lake. 
Two  Indians  were  hunting  together  on  horseback  when 
they  came  on  the  cougar.  It  fell  at  once  to  their  shots, 
and  they  dismounted  and  ran  towards  it.  Just  as  they 
reached  it  it  came  to,  and  seized  one,  killing  him  instantly 
with  a  couple  of  savage  bites  in  the  throat  and  chest ;  it 
then  raced  after  the  other,  and,  as  he  sprung  on  his  horse, 
struck  him  across  the  buttocks,  inflicting  a  deep  but  not 
dangerous  scratch.  I  saw  this  survivor  a  year  later.  He 
evinced  great  reluctance  to  talk  of  the  event,  and  insisted 
that  the  thing  which  had  slain  his  companion  was  not 
really  a  cougar  at  all,  but  a  devil. 

A  she-cougar  does  not  often  attempt  to  avenge  the 
loss  of  her  young,  but  sometimes  she  does.  A  remarkable 
instance  of  the  kind  happened  to  my  friend,  Professor 
John  Bache  McMaster,  in  1875.  He  was  camped  near 
the  head  of  Green  River,  Wyoming.  One  afternoon  he 
found  a  couple  of  cougar  kittens,  and  took  them  into 
camp  ;  they  were  clumsy,  playful,  friendly  little  creatures. 
The  next  afternoon  he  remained  in  camp  with  the  cook. 
Happening  to  look  up  he  suddenly  spied  the  mother 
cougar  running  noiselessly  down  on  them,  her  eyes  glaring 
and  tail  twitching.  Snatching  up  his  rifle,  he  killed  her 
when  she  was  barely  twenty  yards  distant. 

A  ranchman,  named  Trescott,  who  was  at  one  time 
my  neighbor,  told  me  that  while  he  was  living  on  a  sheep- 


The  Cougar. 


347 


farm  in  the  Argentine,  he  found  pumas  very  common, 
and  killed  many.  They  were  very  destructive  to  sheep 
and  colts,  but  were  singularly  cowardly  when  dealing 
with  men.  Not  only  did  they  never  attack  human  beings, 
under  any  stress  of  hunger,  but  they  made  no  effective 
resistance  when  brought  to  bay,  merely  scratching  and 
cuffing  like  a  big  cat ;  so  that  if  found  in  a  cave,  it  was 
safe  to  creep  in  and  shoot  them  with  a  revolver.  Jaguars, 
on  the  contrary,  were  very  dangerous  antagonists. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A  PECCARY  HUNT  ON  THE  NUECES. 

IN  the  United  States  the  peccary  is  only  found  in  the 
southernmost  corner  of  Texas.     In  April,    1892,  I 
made  a  flying  visit  to  the  ranch   country   of   this 
region,  starting  from  the  town  of  Uvalde  with  a  Texan 
friend,  Mr.  John  Moore.     My  trip  being  very  hurried,  I 
had  but  a  couple  of  days  to  devote  to  hunting. 

Our  first  halting-place  was  at  a  ranch  on  the  Frio  ;  a 
low,  wooden  building,  of  many  rooms,  with  open  galleries 
between  them,  and  verandas  round  about.  The  country 
was  in  some  respects  like,  in  others  strangely  unlike,  the 
northern  plains  with  which  I  was  so  well  acquainted.  It 
was  for  the  most  part  covered  with  a  scattered  growth 
of  tough,  stunted  mesquite  trees,  not  dense  enough  to  be 
called  a  forest,  and  yet  sufficiently  close  to  cut  off  the 
view.  It  was  very  dry,  even  as  compared  with  the 
northern  plains.  The  bed  of  the  Frio  was  filled  with 
coarse  gravel,  and  for  the  most  part  dry  as  a  bone  on 
the  surface,  the  water  seeping  through  underneath,  and 
only  appearing  in  occasional  deep  holes.  These  deep 
holes  or  ponds  never  fail,  even  after  a  year's  drouth  ;  they 

340 


A  Peccary  Hunt  on  the  Nueces.      349 

were  filled  with  fish.  One  lay  quite  near  the  ranch  house, 
under  a  bold  rocky  bluff;  at  its  edge  grew  giant  cypress 
trees.  In  the  hollows  and  by  the  watercourses  were 
occasional  groves  of  pecans,  live-oaks,  and  elms.  Strange 
birds  hopped  among  the  bushes  ;  the  chaparral  cock — a 
big,  handsome  ground-cuckoo  of  remarkable  habits,  much 
given  to  preying  on  small  snakes  and  lizards — ran  over 
the  ground  with  extraordinary  rapidity.  Beautiful  swal* 
low-tailed  kingbirds  with  rosy  plumage  perched  on  the 
tops  of  the  small  trees,  and  soared  and  flitted  in  graceful 
curves  above  them.  Blackbirds  of  many  kinds  scuttled  in 
flocks  about  the  corrals  and  outbuildings  around  the 
ranches.  Mocking-birds  abounded,  and  were  very  noisy, 
singing  almost  all  the  daytime,  but  with  their  usual 
irritating  inequality  of  performance,  wonderfully  musical 
and  powerful  snatches  of  song  being  interspersed  with 
imitations  of  other  bird  notes  and  disagreeable  squalling. 
Throughout  the  trip  I  did  not  hear  one  of  them  utter  the 
beautiful  love  song  in  which  they  sometimes  indulge 
at  night. 

The  country  was  all  under  wire  fence,  unlike  the 
northern  regions,  the  pastures  however  being  sometimes 
many  miles  across.  When  we  reached  the  Frio  ranch  a 
herd  of  a  thousand  cattle  had  just  been  gathered,  and 
two  or  three  hundred  beeves  and  young  stock  were  being 
cut  out  to  be  driven  northward  over  the  trail.  The  cat- 
tle were  worked  in  pens  much  more  than  in  the  North, 
and  on  all  the  ranches  there  were  chutes  with  steering 
gates,  by  means  of  which  the  individuals  of  a  herd  could 
be  dexterously  shifted  into  various  corrals.  The  brand- 


350  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

ing  of  the  calves  was  done  ordinarily  in  one  of  these 
corrals  and  on  foot,  the  calf  being  always  roped  by  both 
forelegs ;  otherwise  the  work  of  the  cowpunchers  was 
much  like  that  of  their  brothers  in  the  North.  As  a 
whole,  however,  they  were  distinctly  more  proficient  with 
the  rope,  and  at  least  half  of  them  were  Mexicans. 

There  were  some  bands  of  wild  cattle  living  only  in 
the  densest  timber  of  the  river  bottoms  which  were  liter- 
ally as  wild  as  deer,  and  moreover  very  fierce  and  dan- 
gerous. The  pursuit  of  these  was  exciting  and  hazardous 
in  the  extreme.  The  men  who  took  part  in  it  showed  not 
only  the  utmost  daring  but  the  most  consummate  horse- 
manship and  wonderful  skill  in  the  use  of  the  rope,  the 
coil  being  hurled  with  the  force  and  precision  of  an  iron 
quoit ;  a  single  man  speedily  overtaking,  roping,  throwing, 
and  binding  down  the  fiercest  steer  or  bull. 

There  had  been  many  peccaries,  or,  as  the  Mexicans 
and  cowpunchers  of  the  border  usually  call  them,  javalinas, 
round  this  ranch  a  few  years  before  the  date  of  my  visit. 
Until  1886,  or  thereabouts,  these  little  wild  hogs  were 
not  much  molested,  and  abounded  in  the  dense  chaparral 
around  the  lower  Rio  Grande.  In  that  year,  however,  it 
was  suddenly  discovered  that  their  hides  had  a  market 
value,  being  worth  four  bits — that  is,  half  a  dollar — apiece  ; 
and  many  Mexicans  and  not  a  few  shiftless  Texans  went 
into  the  business  of  hunting  them  as  a  means  of  livelihood. 
They  were  more  easily  killed  than  deer,  and,  as  a  result, 
they  were  speedily  exterminated  in  many  localities  where 
they  had  formerly  been  numerous,  and  even  where  they 
were  left  were  to  be  found  only  in  greatly  diminished 


A  Peccary  Hunt  on  the  Nueces.     351 

numbers.  On  this  particular  Frio  ranch  the  last  little 
band  had  been  killed  nearly  a  year  before.  There  were 
three  of  them,  a  boar  and  two  sows,  and  a  couple  of  the 
cowboys  stumbled  on  them  early  one  morning  while  .out 
with  a  dog.  After  half  a  mile's  chase  the  three  peccaries 
ran  into  a  hollow  pecan  tree,  and  one  of  the  cowboys, 
dismounting,  improvised  a  lance  by  tying  his  knife  to  the 
end  of  a  pole,  and  killed  them  all. 

Many  anecdotes  were  related  to  me  of  what  they  had 
done  in  the  old  days  when  they  were  plentiful  on  the 
ranch.  They  were  then  usually  found  in  parties  of  from 
twenty  to  thirty,  feeding  in  the  dense  chaparral,  the  sows 
rejoining  the  herd  with  the  young  very  soon  after  the 
birth  of  the  latter,  each  sow  usually  having  but  one  or  two 
at  a  litter.  At  night  they  sometimes  lay  in  the  thickest 
cover,  but  always,  where  possible,  preferred  to  house  in 
a  cave  or  big  hollow  log,  one  invariably  remaining  as  a 
sentinel  close  to  the  mouth,  looking  out.  If  this  senti- 
nel were  shot,  another  would  almost  certainly  take  his 
place.  They  were  subject  to  freaks  of  stupidity,  and 
were  pugnacious  to  a  degree.  Not  only  would  they  fight 
if  molested,  but  they  would  often  attack  entirely  without 
provocation. 

Once  my  friend  Moore  himself,  while  out  with  another 
cowboy  on  horseback,  was  attacked  in  sheer  wantonness 
by  a  drove  of  these  little  wild  hogs.  The  two  men  were 
riding  by  a  grove  of  live-oaks  along  a  wood-cutter's  cart 
track,  and  were  assailed  without  a  moment's  warning. 
The  little  creatures  completely  surrounded  them,  cutting 
fiercely  at  the  horses'  legs  and  jumping  up  at  the  riders' 


35 2  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

feet.  The  men,  drawing  their  revolvers,  dashed  through 
and  were  closely  followed  by  their  pursuers  for  three  or 
four  hundred  yards,  although  they  fired  right  and  left  with 
good  effect.  Both  of  the  horses  were  badly  cut.  On 
another  occasion  the  bookkeeper  of  the  ranch  walked  off 
to  a  water  hole  but  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  and  came 
face  to  face  with  a  peccary  on  a  cattle  trail,  where  the 
brush  was  thick.  Instead  of  getting  out  of  his  way  the 
creature  charged  him  instantly,  drove  him  up  a  small  mes- 
quite  tree,  and  kept  him  there  for  nearly  two  hours,  look- 
ing up  at  him  and  champing  its  tusks. 

I  spent  two  days  hunting  round  this  ranch  but  saw  no 
peccary  sign  whatever,  although  deer  were  quite  plentiful. 
Parties  of  wild  geese  and  sandhill  cranes  occasionally  flew 
overhead.  At  nightfall  the  poor-wills  wailed  everywhere 
through  the  woods,  and  coyotes  yelped  and  yelled,  while 
in  the  early  morning  the  wild  turkeys  gobbled  loudly 
from  their  roosts  in  the  tops  of  the  pecan  trees. 

Having  satisfied  myself  that  there  were  no  javalinas 
left  on  the  Frio  ranch,  and  being  nearly  at  the  end  of  my 
holiday,  I  was  about  to  abandon  the  effort  to  get  any, 
when  a  passing  cowman  happened  to  mention  the  fact 
that  some  were  still  to  be  found  on  the  Nueces  River 
thirty  miles  or  thereabouts  to  the  southward.  Thither  I 
determined  to  go,  and  next  morning  Moore  and  I  started 
in  a  buggy  drawn  by  a  redoubtable  horse,  named  Jim 
Swinger,  which  we  were  allowed  to  use  because  he  bucked 
so  under  the  saddle  that  nobody  on  the  ranch  could  ride 
him.  We  drove  six  or  seven  hours  across  the  dry,  water- 
less plains.  There  had  been  a  heavy  frost  a  few  days 


A  Peccary  Hunt  on  the  Nueces.     353 

before,  which  had  blackened  the  budding  mesquite  trees, 
and  their  twigs  still  showed  no  signs  of  sprouting.  Occa- 
sionally we  came  across  open  spaces  where  there  was 
nothing  but  short  brown  grass.  In  most  places,  however ,. 
the  leafless,  sprawling  mesquites  were  scattered  rather 
thinly  over  the  ground,  cutting  off  an  extensive  view  and 
merely  adding  to  the  melancholy  barrenness  of  the  land- 
scape. The  road  was  nothing  but  a  couple  of  dusty 
wheel-tracks ;  the  ground  was  parched,  and  the  grass 
cropped  close  by  the  gaunt,  starved  cattle.  As  we  drove 
along  buzzards  and  great  hawks  occasionally  soared  over- 
head. Now  and  then  we  passed  lines  of  wild-looking, 
long-horned  steers,  and  once  we  came  on  the  grazing 
horses  of  a  cow-outfit,  just  preparing  to  start  northward 
over  the  trail  to  the  fattening  pastures.  Occasionally  we 
encountered  one  or  two  cowpunchers  :  either  Texans, 
habited  exactly  like  their  brethren  in  the  North,  with 
broad-brimmed  gray  hats,  blue  shirts,  silk  neckerchiefs, 
and  leather  leggings ;  or  else  Mexicans,  more  gaudily 
dressed,  and  wearing  peculiarly  stiff,  very  broad-brimmed 
hats,  with  conical  tops. 

Toward  the  end  of  our  ride  we  got  where  the  ground 
was  more  fertile,  and  there  had  recently  been  a  sprinkling 
of  rain.  Here  we  came  across  wonderful  flower  prairies. 
In  one  spot  I  kept  catching  glimpses  through  the  mesquite 
trees  of  lilac  stretches  which  I  had  first  thought  must  be 
ponds  of  water.  On  coming  nearer  they  proved  to  be 
acres  on  acres  thickly  covered  with  beautiful  lilac-colored 
flowers.  Farther  on  we  came  to  where  broad  bands  of 
red  flowers  covered  the  ground  for  many  furlongs  ;  then 


354          The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

their  places  were  taken  by  yellow  blossoms,  elsewhere  by 
white.  Generally  each  band  or  patch  of  ground  was 
covered  densely  by  flowers  of  the  same  color,  making  a 
great  vivid  streak  across  the  landscape  ;  but  in  places  they 
were  mixed  together,  red,  yellow,  and  purple,  interspersed 
in  patches  and  curving  bands,  carpeting  the  prairie  in  a 
strange,  bright  pattern. 

Finally,  toward  evening  we  reached  the  Nueces. 
Where  we  struck  it  first  the  bed  was  dry,  except  in  occa- 
sional deep,  malarial-looking  pools,  but  a  short  distance 
below  there  began  to  be  a  running  current.  Great  blue 
herons  were  stalking  beside  these  pools,  and  from  one  we 
flushed  a  white  ibis.  In  the  woods  were  reddish  cardinal 
birds,  much  less  brilliant  in  plumage  than  the  true  cardinals 
and  the  scarlet  tanagers  ;  and  yellow-headed  titmice  which 
had  already  built  large  domed  nests. 

In  the  valley  of  the  Nueces  itself,  the  brush  grew 
thick.  There  were  great  groves  of  pecan  trees,  and  ever- 
green live-oaks  stood  in  many  places,  long,  wind-shaken 
tufts  of  gray  moss  hanging  from  their  limbs.  Many  of 
the  trees  in  the  wet  spots  were  of  giant  size,  and  the 
whole  landscape  was  semi-tropical  in  character.  High 
on  a  bluff  shoulder  overlooking  the  course  of  the  river 
was  perched  the  ranch  house,  toward  which  we  were  bend- 
ing our  steps  ;  and  here  we  were  received  with  the  hearty 
hospitality  characteristic  of  the  ranch  country  everywhere. 

The  son  of  the  ranchman,  a  tall,  well-built  young 
fellow,  told  me  at  once  that  there  were  peccaries  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  that  he  had  himself  shot  one  but  two 
or  three  days  before,  and  volunteered  to  lend  us  horses 


A  Peccary  Hunt  on  the  Nueces.     355 

and  pilot  us  to  the  game  on  the  morrow,  with  the  help  of 
his  two  dogs.  The  last  were  big  black  curs  with,  as  we 
were  assured,  "  considerable  hound  "  in  them.  One  was 
at  the  time  staying  at  the  ranch  house,  the  other  was  four 
or  five  miles  off  with  a  Mexican  goat-herder,  and  it  was 
arranged  that  early  in  the  morning  we  should  ride  down 
to  the  latter  place,  taking  the  first  dog  with  us  and  pro- 
curing his  companion  when  we  reached  the  goat-herder's 
house. 

We  started  after  breakfast,  riding  powerful  cow-ponies, 
well  trained  to  gallop  at  full  speed  through  the  dense 
chaparral.  The  big  black  hound  slouched  at  our  heels. 
We  rode  down  the  banks  of  the  Nueces,  crossing  and 
recrossing  the  stream.  Here  and  there  were  long,  deep 
pools  in  the  bed  of  the  river,  where  rushes  and  lilies  grew 
and  huge  mailed  garfish  swam  slowly  just  beneath  the 
surface  of  the  water.  Once  my  two  companions  stopped 
to  pull  a  mired  cow  out  of  a  slough,  hauling  with  ropes 
from  their  saddle  horns.  In  places  there  were  half-dry 
pools,  out  of  the  regular  current  of  the  river,  the  water 
green  and  fetid.  The  trees  were  very  tall  and  large. 
The  streamers  of  pale  gray  moss  hung  thickly  from  the 
branches  of  the  live-oaks,  and  when  many  trees  thus 
draped  stood  close  together  they  bore  a  strangely  mourn- 
ful and  desolate  look. 

We  finally  found  the  queer  little  hut  of  the  Mexican 
goat-herder  in  the  midst  of  a  grove  of  giant  pecans.  On 
the  walls  were  nailed  the  skins  of  different  beasts,  rac- 
coons, wild-cats,  and  the  tree-civet,  with  its  ringed  tail. 
The  Mexican's  brown  wife  and  children  were  in  the  hut, 


356          The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

but  the  man  himself  and  the  goats  were  off  in  the  forest, 
and  it  took  us  three  or  four  hours'  search  before  we  found 
him.  Then  it  was  nearly  noon,  and  we  lunched  in  his 
hut,  a  square  building  of  split  logs,  with  bare  earth  floor, 
and  roof  of  clap-boards  and  bark.  Our  lunch  consisted  of 
goat's  meat  and  pan  de  mais.  The  Mexican,  a  broad- 
chested  man  with  a  stolid  Indian  face,  was  evidently  quite 
a  sportsman,  and  had  two  or  three  half-starved  hounds, 
besides  the  funny,  hairless  little  house  dogs,  of  which 
Mexicans  seem  so  fond. 

Having  borrowed  the  javalina  hound  of  which  we 
were  in  search,  we  rode  off  in  quest  of  our  game,  the  two 
dogs  trotting  gayly  ahead.  The  one  which  had  been 
living  at  the  ranch  had  evidently  fared  well,  and  was  very 
fat ;  the  other  was  little  else  but  skin  and  bone,  but  as 
alert  and  knowing  as  any  New  York  street-boy,  with  the 
same  air  of  disreputable  capacity.  It  was  this  hound 
which  always  did  most  in  finding  the  javalinas  and  bring- 
ing them  to  bay,  his  companion's  chief  use  being  to  make 
a  noise  and  lend  the  moral  support  of  his  presence. 

We  rode  away  from  the  river  on  the  dry  uplands,  where 
the  timber,  though  thick,  was  small,  consisting  almost 
exclusively  of  the  thorny  mesquites.  Mixed  among  them 
were  prickly  pears,  standing  as  high  as  our  heads  on  horse- 
back, and  Spanish  bayonets,  looking  in  the  distance  like 
small  palms ;  and  there  were  many  other  kinds  of  cactus, 
all  with  poisonous  thorns.  Two  or  three  times  the  dogs 
got  on  an  old  trail  and  rushed  off  giving  tongue,  whereat 
we  galloped  madly  after  them,  ducking  and  dodging 
through  and  among  the  clusters  of  spine-bearing  trees 


A  Peccary  Hunt  on  the  Nueces.      357 

and  cactus,  not  without  getting  a  considerable  number  of 
thorns  in  our  hands  and  legs.  It  was  very  dry  and  hot. 
Where  the  javalinas  live  in  droves  in  the  river  bottoms 
they  often  drink  at  the  pools ;  but  when  some  distance 
from  water  they  seem  to  live  quite  comfortably  on  the 
prickly  pear,  slaking  their  thirst  by  eating  its  hard,  juicy 
fibre. 

At  last,  after  several  false  alarms,  and  gallops  which 
led  to  nothing,  when  it  lacked  but  an  hour  of  sundown 
we  struck  a  band  of  five  of  the  little  wild  hogs.  They 
were  running  off  through  the  mesquites  with  a  peculiar 
hopping  or  bounding  motion,  and  we  all,  dogs  and  men, 
tore  after  them  instantly. 

Peccaries  are  very  fast  for  a  few  hundred  yards,  but 
speedily  tire,  lose  their  wind,  and  come  to  bay.  Almost 
immediately  one  of  these,  a  sow,  as  it  turned  out,  wheeled 
and  charged  at  Moore  as  he  passed,  Moore  never  seeing 
her  but  keeping  on  after  another.  The  sow  then  stopped 
and  stood  still,  chattering  her  teeth  savagely,  and  I 
jumped  off  my  horse  and  dropped  her  dead  with  a  shot 
in  the  spine,  over  the  shoulders.  Moore  meanwhile  had 
dashed  off  after  his  pig  in  one  direction,  and  killed  the 
little  beast  with  a  shot  from  the  saddle  when  it  had  come 
to  bay,  turning  and  going  straight  at  him.  Two  of  the 
peccaries  got  off ;  the  remaining  one,  a  rather  large  boar, 
was  followed  by  the  two  dogs,  and  as  soon  as  I  had  killed 
the  sow  I  leaped  again  on  my  horse  and  made  after 
them,  guided  by  the  yelping  and  baying.  In  less  than  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  they  were  on  his  haunches,  and  he 
wheeled  and  stood  under  a  bush,  charging  at  them  when 


358  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

they  came  near  him,  and  once  catching  one,  inflicting  an 
ugly  cut.  All  the  while  his  teeth  kept  going  like  casta- 
nets, with  a  rapid  champing  sound.  I  ran  up  close  and 
killed  him  by  a  shot  through  the  backbone  where  it  joined 
the  neck.  His  tusks  were  fine. 

The  few  minutes'  chase  on  horseback  was  great  fun, 
and  there  was  a  certain  excitement  in  seeing  the  fierce 
little  creatures  come  to  bay  ;  but  the  true  way  to  kill  these 
peccaries  would  be  with  the  spear.  They  could  often  be 
speared  on  horseback,  and  where  this  was  impossible,  by 
using  dogs  to  bring  them  to  bay  they  could  readily  be 
killed  on  foot  ;  though,  as  they  are  very  active  absolutely 
fearless,  and  inflict  a  most  formidable  bite,  it  would  usually 
be  safest  to  have  two  men  go  at  one  together.  Peccaries 
are  not  difficult  beasts  to  kill,  because  their  short  wind 
and  their  pugnacity  make  them  come  to  bay  before  hounds 
so  quickly.  Two  or  three  good  dogs  can  bring  to  a  halt 
a  herd  of  considerable  size.  They  then  all  stand  in  a 
bunch,  or  else  with  their  sterns  against  a  bank,  chattering 
their  teeth  at  their  antagonists.  When  angry  and  at  bay, 
they  get  their  legs  close  together,  their  shoulders  high, 
and  their  bristles  all  ruffled,  and  look  the  very  incarnation 
of  anger,  and  they  fight  with  reckless  indifference  to  the 
very  last.  Hunters  usually  treat  them  with  a  certain 
amount  of  caution  ;  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  know  of  but 
one  case  where  a  man  was  hurt  by  them.  He  had  shot  at 
and  wounded  one,  was  charged  both  by  it  and  by  its  two 
companions,  and  started  to  climb  a  tree  ;  but  as  he  drew 
himself  from  the  ground,  one  sprang  at  him  and  bit  him 
through  the  calf,  inflicting  a  very  severe  wound.  I  have 


A  Peccary  Hunt  on  the  Nueces.      359 

known  of  several  cases  of  horses  being  cut,  however,  and 
dogs  are  very  commonly  killed.  Indeed,  a  dog  new  to  the 
business  is  almost  certain  to  get  very  badly  scarred,  and 
no  dog  that  hunts  steadily  can  escape  without  some  injury. 
If  it  runs  in  right  at  the  heads  of  the  animals,  the  proba- 
bilities are  that  it  will  get  killed  ;  and,  as  a  rule,  even  two 
good-sized  hounds  cannot  kill  a  peccary,  though  it  is  no 
larger  than  either  of  them.  However,  a  wary,  resolute, 
hard-biting  dog  of  good  size  speedily  gets  accustomed  to 
the  chase,  and  can  kill  a  peccary  single-handed,  seizing  it 
from  behind  and  worrying  it  to  death,  or  watching  its 
chance  and  grabbing  it  by  the  back  of  the  neck  where  it 
joins  the  head. 

Peccaries  have  delicately  moulded  short  legs,  and  their 
feet  are  small,  the  tracks  looking  peculiarly  dainty  in  con- 
sequence. Hence,  they  do  not  swim  well,  though  they 
take  to  the  water  if  necessary.  They  feed  on  roots, 
prickly  pears,  nuts,  insects,  lizards,  etc.  They  usually 
keep  entirely  separate  from  the  droves  of  half-wild  swine 
that  are  so  often  found  in  the  same  neighborhoods ;  but 
in  one  case,  on  this  very  ranch  where  I  was  staying,  a 
peccary  deliberately  joined  a  party  of  nine  pigs  and  asso- 
ciated with  them.  When  the  owner  of  the  pigs  came  up 
to  them  one  day  the  peccary  manifested  great  suspicion 
at  his  presence,  and  finally  sidled  close  up  and  threatened 
to  attack  him,  so  that  he  had  to  shoot  it.  The  ranchman's 
son  told  me  that  he  had  never  but  once  had  a  peccary 
assail  him  unprovoked,  and  even  in  this  case  it  was  his 
dog  that  was  the  object  of  attack,  the  peccary  rushing  out 
at  it  as  it  followed  him  home  one  evening  through  the 


360 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 


chaparral.  Even  around  this  ranch  the  peccaries  had  very 
greatly  decreased  in  numbers,  and  the  survivors  were 
learning  some  caution.  In  the  old  days  it  had  been  no 
uncommon  thing  for  a  big  band  to  attack  entirely  of  their 
own  accord,  and  keep  a  hunter  up  a  tree  for  hours  at  a 
time. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

HUNTING  WITH    HOUNDS. 

IN  hunting  American  big  game  with  hounds,  several 
entirely  distinct  methods  are  pursued.  The  true 
wilderness  hunters,  the  men  who  in  the  early  days 
lived  alone  in,  or  moved  in  parties  through,  the  Indian- 
haunted  solitudes,  like  their  successors  of  to-day,  rarely 
made  use  of  a  pack  of  hounds,  and,  as  a  rule,  did  not  use 
dogs  at  all.  In  the  eastern  forests  occasionally  an  old- 
time  hunter  would  own  one  or  two  track-hounds,  slow, 
with  a  good  nose,  intelligent  and  obedient,  of  use  mainly 
in  following  wounded  game.  Some  Rocky  Mountain 
hunters  nowadays  employ  the  same  kind  of  dog,  but  the 
old-time  trappers  of  the  great  plains  and  the  Rockies  led 
such  wandering  lives  of  peril  and  hardship  that  they  could 
not  readily  take  dogs  with  them.  The  hunters  of  the 
Alleghanies  and  the  Adirondacks  have,  however,  always 
used  hounds  to  drive  deer,  killing  the  animal  in  the  water 
or  at  a  runaway. 

As  soon,  however,  as  the  old  wilderness  hunter  type 
passes  away,  hounds  come  into  use  among  his  successors, 

the  rough  border  settlers  of  the  backwoods  and  the  plains. 

361 


362  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Every  such  settler  is  apt  to  have  four  or  five  large 
mongrel  dogs  with  hound  blood  in  them,  which  serve  to 
drive  off  beasts  of  prey  from  the  sheepfold  and  cattle-shed, 
and  are  also  used,  when  the  occasion  suits,  in  regular 
hunting,  whether  after  bear  or  deer. 

Many  of  the  southern  planters  have  always  kept  packs 
of  fox-hounds,  which  are  used  in  the  chase,  not  only  of  the 
gray  and  the  red  fox,  but  also  of  the  deer,  the  black  bear, 
and  the  wildcat.  The  fox  the  dogs  themselves  run  down 
and  kill,  but  as  a  rule  in  this  kind  of  hunting,  when 
after  deer,  bear,  or  even  wildcat,  the  hunters  carry  guns 
with  them  on  their  horses,  and  endeavor  either  to  get  a 
shot  at  the  fleeing  animal  by  hard  and  dexterous  riding, 
or  else  to  kill  the  cat  when  treed,  or  the  bear  when  it 
comes  to  bay.  Such  hunting  is  great  sport. 

Killing  driven  game  by  lying  in  wait  for  it  to  pass  is 
the  very  poorest  kind  of  sport  that  can  be  called  legitimate. 
This  is  the  way  the  deer  is  usually  killed  with  hounds 
in  the  East.  In  the  North  the  red  fox  is  often  killed  in 
somewhat  the  same  manner,  being  followed  by  a  slow 
hound  and  shot  at  as  he  circles  before  the  dog.  Although 
this  kind  of  fox-hunting  is  inferior  to  hunting  on  horse- 
back, it  nevertheless  has  its  merits,  as  the  man  must  walk 
and  run  well,  shoot  with  some  accuracy,  and  show  consid- 
erable knowledge  both  of  the  country  and  of  the  habits 
of  the  game. 

During  the  last  score  of  years  an  entirely  different  type 
of  dog  from  the  fox-hound  has  firmly  established  itself 
in  the  field  of  American  sport.  This  is  the  greyhound, 
whether  the  smooth-haired,  or  the  rough-coated  Scotch 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  363 

deer-hound.  For  half  a  century  the  army  officers  posted 
in  the  far  West  have  occasionally  had  greyhounds  with 
them,  using  the  dogs  to  course  jack-rabbit,  coyote,  and 
sometimes  deer,  antelope,  and  gray  wolf.  Many  of  them 
were  devoted  to  this  sport, — General  Custer,  for  instance. 
I  have  myself  hunted  with  many  of  the  descendants  of 
Custer's  hounds.  In  the  early  70*3  the  ranchmen  of  the 
great  plains  themselves  began  to  keep  greyhounds  for 
coursing  (as  indeed  they  had  already  been  used  for  a  con- 
siderable time  in  California,  after  the  Pacific  coast  jack- 
rabbit),  and  the  sport  speedily  assumed  large  proportions 
and  a  permanent  form.  Nowadays  the  ranchmen  of  the 
cattle  country  not  only  use  their  greyhounds  after  the 
jack-rabbit,  but  also  after  every  other  kind  of  game  ani- 
mal to  be  found  there,  the  antelope  and  coyote  being  es- 
pecial favorites.  Many  ranchmen  soon  grew  to  own  fine 
packs,  coursing  being  the  sport  of  all  sports  for  the  plains. 
In  Texas  the  wild  turkey  was  frequently  an  object  of  the 
chase,  and  wherever  the  locality  enabled  deer  to  be  fol- 
lowed in  the  open,  as  for  instance  in  the  Indian  territory, 
and  in  many  places  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  large  plains 
rivers,  the  whitetail  was  a  favorite  quarry,  the  hunters 
striving  to  surprise  it  in  the  early  morning  when  feeding 
on  the  prairie. 

I  have  myself  generally  coursed  with  scratch  packs, 
including  perhaps  a  couple  of  greyhounds,  a  wire-haired 
deer-hound,  and  two  or  three  long-legged  mongrels. 
However,  we  generally  had  at  least  one  very  fast  and 
savage  dog — a  strike  dog — in  each  pack,  and  the  others 
were  of  assistance  in  turning  the  game,  sometimes  in  tiring 


364  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

it,  and  usually  in  helping  to  finish  it  at  the  worry.  With 
such  packs  I  have  had  many  a  wildly  exciting  ride  over 
the  great  grassy  plains  lying  near  the  Little  Missouri  and 
the  Knife  and  Heart  rivers.  Usually  our  proceedings  on 
such  a  hunt  were  perfectly  simple.  We  started  on  horse- 
back and  when  reaching  favorable  ground  beat  across  it 
in  a  long  scattered  line  of  men  and  dogs.  Anything  that 
we  put  up,  from  a  fox  to  a  coyote  or  a  prong-buck,  was 
fair  game,  and  was  instantly  followed  at  full  speed.  The 
animals  we  most  frequently  killed  were  jack-rabbits.  They 
always  gave  good  runs,  though  like  other  game  they  dif- 
fered much  individually  in  speed.  The  foxes  did  not  run 
so  well,  and  whether  they  were  the  little  swift,  or  the  big 
red  prairie  fox,  they  were  speedily  snapped  up  if  the  dogs 
had  a  fair  showing.  Once  our  dogs  roused  a  blacktail 
buck  close  up  out  of  a  brush  coulie  where  the  ground  was 
moderately  smooth,  and  after  a  headlong  chase  of  a  mile 
they  ran  into  him,  threw  him,  and  killed  him  before  he 
could  rise.  (His  stiff-legged  bounds  sent  him  along  at  a 
tremendous  pace  at  first,  but  he  seemed  to  tire  rather 
easily.)  On  two  or  three  occasions  we  killed  whitetail 
deer,  and  several  times  antelope.  Usually,  however,  the 
antelopes  escaped.  The  bucks  sometimes  made  a  good 
fight,  but  generally  they  were  seized  while  running,  some 
dogs  catching  by  the  throat,  others  by  the  shoulders,  and 
others  again  by  the  flank  just  in  front  of  the  hind-leg. 
Wherever  the  hold  was  obtained,  if  the  dog  made  his 
spring  cleverly,  the  buck  was  sure  to  come  down  with  a 
crash,  and  if  the  other  dogs  were  anywhere  near  he  was 
probably  killed  before  he  could  rise,  although  not  infre- 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  365 

quently  the  dogs  themselves  were  more  or  less  scratched 
in  the  contests.  Some  greyhounds,  even  of  high  breed- 
ing, proved  absolutely  useless  from  timidity,  being  afraid 
to  take  hold ;  but  if  they  got  accustomed  to  the  chase, 
being  worked  with  old  dogs,  and  had  any  pluck  at  all, 
they  proved  singularly  fearless.  A  big  ninety-pound 
greyhound  or  Scotch  deer-hound  is  a  very  formidable  fight- 
ing dog  ;  I  saw  one  whip  a  big  mastiff  in  short  order,  his 
wonderful  agility  being  of  more  account  than  his  adver- 
sary's superior  weight. 

The  proper  way  to  course,  however,  is  to  take  the 
dogs  out  in  a  wagon  and  drive  them  thus  until  the  game 
is  seen.  This  prevents  their  being  tired  out.  In  my  own 
hunting,  most  of  the  antelope  aroused  got  away,  the  dogs 
being  jaded  when  the  chase  began.  But  really  fine  grey- 
hounds, accustomed  to  work  together  and  to  hunt  this 
species  of  game,  will  usually  render  a  good  account  of  a 
prong-buck  if  two  or  three  are  slipped  at  once,  fresh,  and 
within  a  moderate  distance. 

Although  most  Westerners  take  more  kindly  to  the 
rifle,  now  and  then  one  is  found  who  is  a  devotee  of  the 
hound.  Such  a  one  was  an  old  Missourian,  who  may  be 
called  Mr.  Cowley,  whom  I  knew  when  he  was  living  on 
a  ranch  in  North  Dakota,  west  of  the  Missouri.  Mr. 
Cowley  was  a  primitive  person,  of  much  nerve,  which  he 
showed  not  only  in  the  hunting  field  but  in  the  startling 
political  conventions  of  the  place  and  period.  He  was 
quite  well  off,  but  he  was  above  the  niceties  of  personal 
vanity.  His  hunting  garb  was  that  in  which  he  also  paid 
his  rare  formal  calls — calls  throughout  which  he  always 


366  Tke  Wilderness  Hunter. 

preserved  the  gravity  of  an  Indian,  though  having  a  dis- 
concerting way  of  suddenly  tip-toeing  across  the  room  to 
some  unfamiliar  object,  such  as  a  peacock  screen  or  a 
vase,  feeling  it  gently  with  one  forefinger,  and  returning 
with  noiseless  gait  to  his  chair,  unmoved,  and  making  no 
comment.  On  the  morning  of  a  hunt  he  would  always 
appear  on  a  stout  horse,  clad  in  a  long  linen  duster,  a 
huge  club  in  his  hand,  and  his  trousers  working  half-way 
up  his  legs.  He  hunted  everything  on  all  possible  occa- 
sions ;  and  he  never  under  any  circumstances  shot  an 
animal  that  the  dogs  could  kill.  Once  when  a  skunk  got 
into  his  house,  with  the  direful  stupidity  of  its  perverse 
kind,  he  turned  the  hounds  on  it ;  a  manifestation  of 
sporting  spirit  which  aroused  the  ire  of  even  his  long- 
suffering  wife.  As  for  his  dogs,  provided  they  could  run 
and  fight,  he  cared  no  more  for  their  looks  than  for  his 
own  ;  he  preferred  the  animal  to  be  half  greyhound,  but 
the  other  half  could  be  fox-hound,  colley,  or  setter,  it 
mattered  nothing  to  him.  They  were  a  wicked,  hard- 
biting  crew  for  all  that,  and  Mr.  Cowley,  in  his  flapping 
linen  duster,  was  a  first-class  hunter  and  a  good  rider. 
He  went  almost  mad  with  excitement  in  every  chase. 
His  pack  usually  hunted  coyote,  fox,  jack-rabbit,  and  deer  ; 
and  I  have  had  more  than  one  good  run  with  it. 

My  own  experience  is  too  limited  to  allow  me  to  pass 
judgment  with  certainty  as  to  the  relative  speed  of  the 
different  beasts  of  the  chase,  especially  as  there  is  so  much 
individual  variation.  I  consider  the  antelope  the  fleetest 
of  all  however ;  and  in  this  opinion  I  am  sustained  by 
Col.  Roger  D.  Williams,  of  Lexington.  Kentucky,  who, 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  367 

more  than  any  other  American,  is  entitled  to  speak  upon 
coursing,  and  especially  upon  coursing  large  game.  Col. 
Williams,  like  a  true  son  of  Kentucky,  has  bred  his  own 
thoroughbred  horses  and  thoroughbred  hounds  for  many 
years  ;  and  during  a  series  of  long  hunting  trips  extending 
over  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century  he  has  tried  his  pack 
on  almost  every  game  animal  to  be  found  among  the 
foot-hills  of  the  Rockies  and  on  the  great  plains.  His 
dogs,  both  smooth-haired  greyhounds  and  rough-coated 
deer-hounds,  have  been  bred  by  him  for  generations  with 
a  special  view  to  the  chase  of  big  game — not  merely  of 
hares  ;  they  are  large  animals,  excelling  not  only  in 
speed  but  in  strength,  endurance,  and  ferocious  courage. 
The  survivors  of  his  old  pack  are  literally  seamed  all  over 
with  the  scars  of  innumerable  battles.  When  several  dogs 
were  together  they  would  stop  a  bull-elk,  and  fearlessly 
assail  a  bear  or  cougar.  This  pack  scored  many  a 
triumph  over  blacktail,  whitetail,  and  prong-buck.  For 
a  few  hundred  yards  the  deer  were  very  fast ;  but  in  a  run 
of  any  duration  the  antelope  showed  much  greater  speed, 
and  gave  the  dogs  far  more  trouble,  although  always 
overtaken  in  the  end,  if  a  good  start  had  been  obtained. 
Col.  Williams  is  a  firm  believer  in  the  power  of  the 
thoroughbred  horse  to  outrun  any  animal  that  breathes, 
in  a  long  chase  ;  he  has  not  infrequently  run  down  deer, 
when  they  were  jumped  some  miles  from  cover  ;  and  on 
two  or  three  occasions  he  ran  down  uninjured  antelope, 
but  in  each  case  only  after  a  desperate  ride  of  miles, 
which  in  one  instance  resulted  in  the  death  of  his  gallant 
horse. 


368  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

This  coursing  on  the  prairie,  especially  after  big  game, 
is  an  exceedingly  manly  and  attractive  sport ;  the  furious 
galloping,  often  over  rough  ground  with  an  occasional 
deep  washout  or  gully,  the  sight  of  the  gallant  hounds 
running  and  tackling,  and  the  exhilaration  of  the  pure  air 
and  wild  surroundings,  all  combine  to  give  it  a  peculiar 
zest.  But  there  is  really  less  need  of  bold  and  skilful 
horsemanship  than  in  the  otherwise  less  attractive  and 
more  artificial  sport  of  fox-hunting,  or  riding  to  hounds, 
in  a  closed  and  long-settled  country. 

Those  of  us  who  are  in  part  of  southern  blood  have  a 
hereditary  right  to  be  fond  of  cross-country  riding ;  for 
our  forefathers  in  Virginia,  Georgia,  or  the  Carolinas, 
have  for  six  generations  followed  the  fox  with  horse,  horn, 
and  hound.  In  the  long-settled  Northern  States  the 
sport  has  been  less  popular,  though  much  more  so  now 
than  formerly ;  yet  it  has  always  existed,  here  and  there, 
and  in  certain  places  has  been  followed  quite  steadily. 

In  no  place  in  the  Northeast  is  hunting  the  wild  red 
fox  put  on  a  more  genuine  and  healthy  basis  than  in  the 
Genesee  Valley,  in  central  New  York.  There  has  always 
been  fox-hunting  in  this  valley,  the  farmers  having  good 
horses  and  being  fond  of  sport ;  but  it  was  conducted  in 
a  very  irregular,  primitive  manner,  until  some  twenty 
years  ago  Mr.  Austin  Wadsworth  turned  his  attention  to 
it.  He  has  been  master  of  fox-hounds  ever  since,  and  no 
pack  in  the  country  has  yielded  better  sport  than  his,  or 
has  brought  out  harder  riders  among  the  men  and 
stronger  jumpers  among  the  horses.  Mr.  Wadsworth 
began  his  hunting  by  picking  up  some  of  the  various 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  369 

trencher-fed  hounds  of  the  neighborhood,  the  hunting  of 
that  period  being  managed  on  the  principle  of  each 
farmer  bringing  to  the  meet  the  hound  or  hounds  he 
happened  to  possess,  and  appearing  on  foot  or  horseback 
as  his  fancy  dictated.  Having  gotten  together  some  of 
these  native  hounds  and  started  fox-hunting  in  localities 
where  the  ground  was  so  open  as  to  necessitate  following 
the  chase  on  horseback,  Mr.  Wadsworth  imported  a 
number  of  dogs  from  the  best  English  kennels.  He 
found  these  to  be  much  faster  than  the  American  dogs 
and  more  accustomed  to  work  together,  but  less  enduring, 
and  without  such  good  noses.  The  American  hounds 
were  very  obstinate  and  self-willed.  Each  wished  to 
work  out  the  trail  for  himself.  But  once  found,  they 
would  puzzle  it  out,  no  matter  how  cold,  and  would 
follow  it  if  necessary  for  a  day  and  night.  By  a  judicious 
crossing  of  the  two  Mr.  Wadsworth  finally  got  his  present 
fine  pack,  which  for  its  own  particular  work  on  its  own 
ground  would  be  hard  to  beat.  The  country  ridden  over 
is  well  wooded,  and  there  are  many  foxes.  The  abun- 
dance of  cover,  however,  naturally  decreases  the  number 
of  kills.  It  is  a  very  fertile  land,  and  there  are  few  farm- 
ing regions  more  beautiful,  for  it  is  prevented  from  being 
too  tame  in  aspect  by  the  number  of  bold  hills  and  deep 
ravines.  Most  of  the  fences  are  high  posts-and-rails  or 
"snake"  fences,  although  there  is  an  occasional  stone 
wall,  haha,  or  water-jump.  The  steepness  of  the  ravines 
and  the  density  of  the  timber  make  it  necessary  for  a 
horse  to  be  sure-footed  and  able  to  scramble  anywhere, 
and  the  fences  are  so  high  that  none  but  very  good 


370  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

jumpers  can  possibly  follow  the  pack.  Most  of  the  horses 
used  are  bred  by  the  farmers  in  the  neighborhood,  or  are 
from  Canada,  and  they  usually  have  thoroughbred  or 
trotting-stock  blood  in  them. 

One  of  the  pleasantest  days  I  ever  passed  in  the  saddle 
was  after  Mr.  Wadsworth's  hounds.  I  was  staying  with 
him  at  the  time,  in  company  with  my  friend  Senator  Cabot 
Lodge,  of  Boston.  The  meet  was  about  twelve  miles  distant 
from  the  house.  It  was  only  a  small  field  of  some  twenty- 
five  riders,  but  there  was  not  one  who  did  not  mean  going. 
I  was  mounted  on  a  young  horse,  a  powerful,  big-boned 
black,  a  great  jumper,  though  perhaps  a  trifle  hot-headed. 
Lodge  was  on  a  fine  bay,  which  could  both  run  and  jump. 
There  were  two  or  three  other  New  Yorkers'  and  Bostoni- 
ans  present,  several  men  who  had  come  up  from  Buffalo 
for  the  run,  a  couple  of  retired  army  officers,  a  number  of 
farmers  from  the  neighborhood ;  and  finally  several 
members  of  a  noted  local  family  of  hard  riders,  who 
formed  a  class  by  themselves,  all  having  taken  naturally 
to  every  variety  of  horsemanship  from  earliest  infancy. 

It  was  a  thoroughly  democratic  assemblage  ;  every  one 
was  there  for  sport,  and  nobody  cared  an  ounce  how  he  or 
anybody  else  was  dressed.  Slouch  hats,  brown  coats, 
corduroy  breeches,  and  leggings,  or  boots,  were  the  order 
of  the  day.  We  cast  off  in  a  thick  wood.  The  dogs 
struck  a  trail  almost  immediately  and  were  off  with  clam- 
orous yelping,  while  the  hunt  thundered  after  them  like  a 
herd  of  buffaloes.  We  went  headlong  down  the  hill-side 
into  and  across  a  brook.  Here  the  trail  led  straight  up 
a  sheer  bank.  Most  of  the  riders  struck  off  to  the  left  for 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  37 * 

an  easier  place,  which  was  unfortunate  for  them,  for  the 
eight  of  us  who  went  straight  up  the  side  (one  man's 
horse  falling  back  with  him)  were  the  only  ones  who  kept 
on  terms  with  the  hounds.  Almost  as  soon  as  we  got  4o 
the  top  of  the  bank  we  came  out  of  the  woods  over  a  low 
but  awkward  rail  fence,  where  one  of  our  number,  who 
was  riding  a  very  excitable  sorrel  colt,  got  a  fall.  This 
left  but  six,  including  the  whip.  There  were  two  or  three 
large  fields  with  low  fences ;  then  we  came  to  two  high, 
stiff  doubles,  the  first  real  jumping  of  the  day,  the  fences 
being  over  four  feet  six,  and  so  close  together  that  the 
horses  barely  had  a  chance  to  gather  themselves.  We 
got  over,  however,  crossed  two  or  three  stump-strewn 
fields,  galloped  through  an  open  wood,  picked  our  way 
across  a  marshy  spot,  jumped  a  small  brook  and  two  or 
three  stiff  fences,  and  then  came  a  check.  Soon  the 
hounds  recovered  the  line  and  swung  off  to  the  right,  back 
across  four  or  five  fields,  so  as  to  enable  the  rest  of  the 
hunt,  by  making  an  angle,  to  come  up.  Then  we  jumped 
over  a  very  high  board  fence  into  the  main  road,  out  of  it 
again,  and  on  over  ploughed  fields  and  grass  land,  sepa- 
rated by  stiff  snake  fences.  The  run  had  been  fast  and 
the  horses  were  beginning  to  tail.  By  the  time  we  sud- 
denly rattled  down  into  a  deep  ravine  and  scrambled  up 
the  other  side  through  thick  timber  there  were  but  four  of 
us  left,  Lodge  and  myself  being  two  of  the  lucky  ones. 
Beyond  this  ravine  we  came  to  one  of  the  worst  jumps  of 
the  day,  a  fence  out  of  the  wood,  which  was  practicable 
only  at  one  spot,  where  a  kind  of  cattle  trail  led  up  to  a 
panel.  It  was  within  an  inch  or  two  of  five  feet  high 


372  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

However,  the  horses,  thoroughly  trained  to  timber  jump- 
ing and  to  rough  and  hard  scrambling  in  awkward  places, 
and  by  this  time  well  quieted,  took  the  bars  without 
mistake,  each  one  in  turn  trotting  or  cantering  up  to 
within  a  few  yards,  then  making  a  couple  of  springs  and 
bucking  over  with  a  great  twist  of  the  powerful  haunches. 
I  may  explain  that  there  was  not  a  horse  of  the  four  that 
had  not  a  record  of  five  feet  six  inches  in  the  ring.  We 
now  got  into  a  perfect  tangle  of  ravines,  and  the  fox  went 
to  earth  ;  and  though  we  started  one  or  two  more  in  the 
course  of  the  afternoon,  we  did  not  get  another  really 
first-class  run. 

At  Geneseo  the  conditions  for  the  enjoyment  of  this 
sport  are  exceptionally  favorable.  In  the  Northeast  gener- 
ally, although  there  are  now  a  number  of  well-established 
hunts,  at  least  nine  out  of  ten  runs  are  after  a  drag.  Most 
of  the  hunts  are  in  the  neighborhood  of  great  cities,  and 
are  mainly  kept  up  by  young  men  who  come  from  them. 
A  few  of  these  are  men  of  leisure,  who  can  afford  to 
devote  their  whole  time  to  pleasure ;  but  much  the 
larger  number  are  men  in  business,  who  work  hard  and 
are  obliged  to  make  their  sports  accommodate  themselves 
to  their  more  serious  occupations.  Once  or  twice  a  week 
they  can  get  off  for  an  afternoon's  ride  across  country, 
and  they  then  wish  to  be  absolutely  certain  of  having 
their  run,  and  of  having  it  at  the  appointed  time  ;  and  the 
only  way  to  insure  this  is  to  have  a  drag-hunt.  It  is  not 
the  lack  of  foxes  that  has  made  the  sport  so  commonly 
take  the  form  of  riding  to  drag-hounds,  but  rather  the 
fact  that  the  majority  of  those  who  keep  it  up  are  hard- 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  373 

working  business  men  who  wish  to  make  the  most  out  of 
every  moment  of  the  little  time  they  can  spare  from  their 
regular  occupations.  A  single  ride  across  country,  or  an 
afternoon  at  polo,  will  yield  more  exercise,  fun,  and  excite-- 
ment  than  can  be  got  out  of  a  week's  decorous  and  dull 
riding  in  the  park,  and  many  young  fellows  have  waked  up 
to  this  fact. 

At  one  time  I  did  a  good  deal  of  hunting  with  the 
Meadowbrook  hounds,  in  the  northern  part  of  Long 
Island.  There  were  plenty  of  foxes  around  us,  both  red 
and  gray,  but  partly  for  the  reasons  given  above,  and 
partly  because  the  covers  were  so  large  and  so  nearly  con- 
tinuous, they  were  not  often  hunted,  although  an  effort 
was  always  made  to  have  one  run  every  week  or  so  after 
a  wild  fox,  in  order  to  give  a  chance  for  the  hounds  to  be 
properly  worked  and  to  prevent  the  runs  from  becoming 
a  mere  succession  of  steeple-chases.  The  sport  was 
mainly  drag-hunting,  and  was  most  exciting,  as  the  fences 
were  high  and  the  pace  fast.  The  Long  Island  country 
needs  a  peculiar  style  of  horse,  the  first  requisite  being  that 
he  shall  be  a  very  good  and  high  timber  jumper.  Quite  a 
number  of  crack  English  and  Irish  hunters  have  at  dif- 
ferent times  been  imported,  and  some  of  them  have  turned 
out  pretty  well ;  but  when  they  first  come  over  they  are 
utterly  unable  to  cross  our  country,  blundering  badly  at 
the  high  timber.  Few  of  them  have  done  as  well  as  the 
American  horses.  I  have  hunted  half  a  dozen  times  in 
England,  with  the  Pytchely,  Essex,  and  North  Warwick- 
shire, and  it  seems  to  me  probable  that  English  thorough- 
breds, in  a  grass  country,  and  over  the  peculiar  kinds  of 


374  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

obstacles  they  have  on  the  other  side  of  the  water,  would 
gallop  away  from  a  field  of  our  Long  Island  horses  ;  for 
they  have  speed  and  bottom,  and  are  great  weight  carriers. 
But  on  our  own  ground,  where  the  cross-country  riding  is 
more  like  leaping  a  succession  of  five-  and  six-bar  gates 
than  anything  else,  they  do  not  as  a  rule,  in  spite  of  the 
enormous  prices  paid  for  them,  show  themselves  equal  to 
the  native  stock.  The  highest  recorded  jump,  seven  feet 
two  inches,  was  made  by  the  American  horse  Filemaker, 
which  I  saw  ridden  in  the  very  front  by  Mr.  H.  L.  Herbert, 
in  the  hunt  at  Sagamore  Hill,  about  to  be  described. 

When  I  was  a  member  of  the  Meadowbrook  hunt, 
most  of  the  meets  were  held  within  a  dozen  miles  or  so  of 
the  kennels  :  at  Farmingdale,  Woodbury,  Wheatly,  Locust 
Valley,  Syosset,  or  near  any  one  of  twenty  other  queer, 
quaint  old  Long  Island  hamlets.  They  were  almost 
always  held  in  the  afternoon,  the  business  men  who  had 
come  down  from  the  city  jogging  over  behind  the  hounds 
to  the  appointed  place,  where  they  were  met  by  the  men 
who  had  ridden  over  direct  from  their  country-houses.  If 
the  meet  was  an  important  one,  there  might  be  a  crowd  of 
onlookers  in  every  kind  of  trap,  from  a  four-in-hand  drag 
to  a  spider-wheeled  buggy  drawn  by  a  pair  of  long-tailed 
trotters,  the  money  value  of  which  many  times  surpassed 
that  of  the  two  best  hunters  in  the  whole  field.  Now 
and  then  a  breakfast  would  be  given  the  hunt  at  some 
country-house,  when  the  whole  day  was  devoted  to  the 
sport ;  perhaps  after  wild  foxes  in  the  morning,  with  a  drag 
in  the  afternoon. 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  375 

After  one  meet,  at  Sagamore  Hill,  I  had  the  curiosity 
to  go  on  foot  over  the  course  we  had  taken,  measuring 
the  jumps  ;  for  it  is  very  difficult  to  form  a  good  estimate 
of  a  fence's  height  when  in  the  field,  and  five  feet~of 
timber  seems  a  much  easier  thing  to  take  when  sitting 
around  the  fire  after  dinner  than  it  does  when  actually 
faced  while  the  hounds  are  running.  On  the  particular 
hunt  in  question  we  ran  about  ten  miles,  at  a  rattling 
pace,  with  only  two  checks,  crossing  somewhat  more  than 
sixty  fences,  most  of  them  post-and-rails,  stiff  as  steel,  the 
others  being  of  the  kind  called  "  Virginia "  or  snake, 
and  not  more  than  ten  or  a  dozen  in  the  whole  lot  under 
four  feet  in  height.  The  highest  measured  five  feet  and 
half  an  inch,  two  others  were  four  feet  eleven,  and  nearly 
a  third  of  the  number  averaged  about  four  and  a  half. 
There  were  also  several  rather  awkward  doubles.  When 
the  hounds  were  cast  off  some  forty  riders  were  present, 
but  the  first  fence  was  a  savage  one,  and  stopped  all  who 
did  not  mean  genuine  hard  going.  Twenty-six  horses 
crossed  it,  one  of  them  ridden  by  a  lady.  A  mile  or  so 
farther  on,  before  there  had  been  a  chance  for  much  tail- 
ing, we  came  to  a  five-bar  gate,  out  of  a  road — a  jump 
of  just  four  feet  five  inches  from  the  take-off.  Up  to  this, 
of  course,  we  went  one  at  a  time,  at  a  trot  or  hand-gallop, 
and  twenty-five  horses  cleared  it  in  succession  without  a 
single  refusal  and  with  but  one  mistake.  Owing  to  the  se- 
verity of  the  pace,  combined  with  the  average  height  of  the 
timber  (although  no  one  fence  was  of  phenomenally  note- 
worthy proportions),  a  good  many  falls  took  place,  result- 


376  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

ing  in  an  unusually  large  percentage  of  accidents.  The 
master  partly  dislocated  one  knee,  another  man  broke 
two  ribs,  and  another — the  present  writer — broke  his  arm. 
However,  almost  all  of  us  managed  to  struggle  through 
to  the  end  in  time  to  see  the  death. 

On  this  occasion  I  owed  my  broken  arm  to  the  fact 
that  my  horse,  a  solemn  animal  originally  taken  out  of  a 
buggy,  though  a  very  clever  fencer,  was  too  coarse  to 
gallop  alongside  the  blooded  beasts  against  which  he  was 
pitted.  But  he  was  so  easy  in  his  gaits,  and  so  quiet, 
being  ridden  with  only  a  snaffle,  that  there  was  no  diffi- 
culty in  following  to  the  end  of  the  run.  I  had  divers 
adventures  on  this  horse.  Once  I  tried  a  pair  of  so-called 
" safety"  stirrups,  which  speedily  fell  out,  and  I  had  to 
ride  through  the  run  without  any,  at  the  cost  of  several 
tumbles.  Much  the  best  hunter  I  ever  owned  was  a 
sorrel  horse  named  Sagamore.  He  was  from  Geneseo, 
was  fast,  a  remarkably  good  jumper,  of  great  endurance, 
as  quick  on  his  feet  as  a  cat,  and  with  a  dauntless  heart. 
He  never  gave  me  a  fall,  and  generally  enabled  me  to 
see  all  the  run. 

It  would  be  very  unfair  to  think  the  sport  especially 
dangerous  on  account  of  the  occasional  accidents  that 
happen.  A  man  who  is  fond  of  riding,  but  who  sets  a 
good  deal  of  value,  either  for  the  sake  of  himself,  his 
family,  or  his  business,  upon  his  neck  and  limbs,  can  hunt 
with  much  safety  if  he  gets  a  quiet  horse,  a  safe  fencer, 
and  does  not  try  to  stay  in  the  front  rank.  Most  acci- 
dents occur  to  men  on  green  or  wild  horses,  or  else  to 
those  who  keep  in  front  only  at  the  expense  of  pumping 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  377 

their  mounts  ;  and  a  fall  with  a  done-out  beast  is  always 
peculiarly  disagreeable.  Most  falls,  however,  do  no  harm 
whatever  to  either  horse  or  rider,  and  after  they  have 
picked  themselves  up  and  shaken  themselves,  the  couple 
ought  to  be  able  to  go  on  just  as  well  as  ever.  Of  course 
a  man  who  wishes  to  keep  in  the  first  flight  must  expect 
to  face  a  certain  number  of  tumbles ;  but  even  he  will 
probably  not  be  hurt  at  all,  and  he  can  avoid  many  a 
mishap  by  easing  up  his  horse  whenever  he  can — that  is, 
by  always  taking  a  gap  when  possible,  going  at  the  lowest 
panel  of  every  fence,  and  not  calling  on  his  animal  for  all 
there  is  in  him  unless  it  cannot  possibly  be  avoided.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  hard  riding  is  a  very  different 
thing  from  good  riding ;  though  a  good  rider  to  hounds 
must  also  at  times  ride  hard. 

Cross-country  riding  in  the  rough  is  not  a  difficult 
thing  to  learn ;  always  provided  the  would-be  learner  is 
gifted  with  or  has  acquired  a  fairly  stout  heart,  for  a  con- 
stitutionally timid  person  is  out  of  place  in  the  hunting 
field.  A  really  finished  cross-country  rider,  a  man  who 
combines  hand  and  seat,  heart  and  head,  is  of  course  rare  ; 
the  standard  is  too  high  for  most  of  us  to  hope  to  reach. 
But  it  is  comparatively  easy  to  acquire  a  light  hand  and  a 
capacity  to  sit  fairly  well  down  in  the  saddle ;  and  when 
a  man  has  once  got  these,  he  will  find  no  especial  difficulty 
in  following  the  hounds  on  a  trained  hunter. 

Fox-hunting  is  a  great  sport,  but  it  is  as  foolish  to  make 
a  fetish  of  it  as  it  is  to  decry  it.  The  fox  is  hunted  merely 
because  there  is  no  larger  game  to  follow.  As  long  as 
wolves,  deer,  or  antelope  remain  in  the  land,  and  in  a  country 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

where  hounds  and  horsemen  can  work,  no  one  would 
think  of  following  the  fox.  It  is  pursued  because  the  big- 
ger beasts  of  the  chase  have  been  killed  out.  In  England 
it  has  reached  its  present  prominence  only  within  two  cen- 
turies ;  nobody  followed  the  fox  while  the  stag  and  boar 
were  common.  At  the  present  day,  on  Exmoor,  where 
the  wild  stag  is  still  found,  its  chase  ranks  ahead  of  that  of 
the  fox.  It  is  not  really  the  hunting  proper  which  is  the 
point  in  fox-hunting.  It  is  the  horsemanship,  the  gallop- 
ing and  jumping,  and  the  being  out  in  the  open  air.  Very 
naturally,  however,  men  who  have  passed  their  lives  as  fox- 
hunters  grow  to  regard  the  chase  and  the  object  of  it  alike 
with  superstitious  veneration.  They  attribute  almost 
mythical  characters  to  the  animal.  I  know  some  of  my 
good  Virginian  friends,  for  instance,  who  seriously  believe 
that  the  Virginia  red  fox  is  a  beast  quite  unparalleled  for 
speed  and  endurance  no  less  than  for  cunning.  This  is 
of  course  a  mistake.  Compared  with  a  wolf,  an  antelope, 
or  even  a  deer,  the  fox's  speed  and  endurance  do  not  stand 
very  high.  A  good  pack  of  hounds  starting  him  close 
would  speedily  run  into  him  in  the  open.  The  reason  that 
the  hunts  last  so  long  in  some  cases  is  because  of  the  nature 
of  the  ground  which  favors  the  fox  at  the  expense  of  the 
dogs,  because  of  his  having  the  advantage  in  the  start,  and 
because  of  his  cunning  in  turning  to  account  everything 
which  will  tell  in  his  favor  and  against  his  pursuers.  In 
the  same  way  I  know  plenty  of  English  friends  who  speak 
with  bated  breath  of  fox-hunting  but  look  down  upon  rid- 
ing to  drag-hounds.  Of  course  there  is  a  difference  in  the 
two  sports,  and  the  fun  of  actually  hunting  the  wild  beast 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  379 

in  the  one  case  more  than  compensates  for  the  fact  that  in 
the  other  the  riding  is  apt  to  be  harder  and  the  jumping 
higher ;  but  both  sports  are  really  artificial,  and  in  their 
essentials  alike.  To  any  man  who  has  hunted  big  game 
in  a  wild  country  the  stress  laid  on  the  differences  between 
them  seems  a  little  absurd,  in  fact  cockney.  It  is  of  course 
nothing  against  either  that  it  is  artificial ;  so  are  all  sports 
in  long-civilized  countries,  from  lacrosse  to  ice  yachting. 

It  is  amusing  to  see  how  natural  it  is  for  each  man  to 
glorify  the  sport  to  which  he  has  been  accustomed  at  the 
expense  of  any  other.  The  old-school  French  sportsman, 
for  instance,  who  followed  the  boar,  stag,  and  hare  with  his 
hounds,  always  looked  down  upon  the  chase  of  the  fox ; 
whereas  the  average  Englishman  not  only  asserts  but 
seriously  believes  that  no  other  kind  of  chase  can  compare 
with  it,  although  in  actual  fact  the  very  points  in  which  the 
Englishman  is  superior  to  the  continental  sportsman — that 
is,  in  hard  and  straight  riding  and  jumping — are  those  which 
drag-hunting  tends  to  develop  rather  more  than  fox-hunt- 
ing proper.  In  the  mere  hunting  itself  the  continental 
sportsman  is  often  unsurpassed. 

Once,  beyond  the  Missouri,  I  met  an  expatriated  German 
baron,  an  unfortunate  who  had  failed  utterly  in  the  rough 
life  of  the  frontier.  He  was  living  in  a  squalid  little  hut, 
almost  unfurnished,  but  studded  around  with  the  diminu- 
tive horns  of  the  European  roebuck.  These  were  the  only 
treasures  he  had  taken  with  him  to  remind  him  of  his 
former  life,  and  he  was  never  tired  of  describing  what  fun 
it  was  to  shoot  roebucks  when  driven  by  the  little  crooked- 
legged  dachshunds.  There  were  plenty  of  deer  and  ante- 


380  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

lope  roundabout,  yielding  good  sport  to  any  rifleman,  but 
this  exile  cared  nothing  for  them  ;  they  were  not  roebucks, 
and  they  could  not  be  chased  with  his  beloved  dachshunds, 
So,  among  my  neighbors  in  the  cattle  country,  is  a  gentle- 
man from  France,  a  very  successful  ranchman,  and  a  thor- 
oughly good  fellow ;  he  cares  nothing  for  hunting  big 
game,  and  will  not  go  after  it,  but  is  devoted  to  shooting 
cotton-tails  in  the  snow,  this  being  a  pastime  having  much 
resemblance  to  one  of  the  recognized  sports  of  his  own 
land. 

However,  our  own  people  afford  precisely  similar  in- 
stances. I  have  met  plenty  of  men  accustomed  to  killing 
wild  tui keys  and  deer  with  small-bore  rifles  in  the  southern 
forests  who,  when  they  got  on  the  plains  and  in  the  Rock- 
ies, were  absolutely  helpless.  They  not  only  failed  to 
become  proficient  in  the  art  of  killing  big  game  at  long 
ranges  with  the  large-bore  rifle,  at  the  cost  of  fatiguing 
tramps,  but  they  had  a  positive  distaste  for  the  sport  and 
would  never  allow  that  it  equalled  their  own  stealthy  hunts 
in  eastern  forests.  So  I  know  plenty  of  men,  experts  with 
the  shotgun,  who  honestly  prefer  shooting  quail  in  the 
East  over  well-trained  setters  or  pointers,  to  the  hardier, 
manlier  sports  of  the  wilderness. 

As  it  is  with  hunting,  so  it  is  with  riding.  The  cow- 
boy's scorn  of  every  method  of  riding  save  his  own  is  as 
profound  and  as  ignorant  as  is  that  of  the  school  rider, 
jockey,  or  fox-hunter.  The  truth  is  that  each  of  these  is 
best  in  his  own  sphere  and  is  at  a  disadvantage  when  made 
to  do  the  work  of  any  of  the  others.  For  all-around  rid- 
ing and  horsemanship,  I  think  the  West  Point  graduate  is 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  381 

somewhat  ahead  of  any  of  them.  Taken  as  a  class,  how- 
ever, and  compared  with  other  classes  as  numerous,  and 
not  with  a  few  exceptional  individuals,  the  cowboy,  like  the 
Rocky  Mountain  stage-driver,  has  no  superiors  anywhere 
for  his  own  work  ;  and  they  are  fine  fellows,  these  iron- 
nerved  reinsmen  and  rough-riders. 

When  Buffalo  Bill  took  his  cowboys  to  Europe  they 
made  a  practice  in  England,  France,  Germany,  and  Italy 
of  offering  to  break  and  ride,  in  their  own  fashion,  any 
horse  given  them.  They  were  frequently  given  spoiled 
animals  from  the  cavalry  services  in  the  different  countries 
through  which  they  passed,  animals  with  which  the  trained 
horse-breakers  of  the  European  armies  could  do  nothing ; 
and  yet  in  almost  all  cases  the  cowpunchers  and  bronco- 
busters  with  Buffalo  Bill  mastered  these  beasts  as  readily 
as  they  did  their  own  western  horses.  At  their  own  work 
of  mastering  and  riding  rough  horses  they  could  not  be 
matched  by  their  more  civilized  rivals  ;  but  I  have  great 
doubts  whether  they  in  turn  would  not  have  been  beaten 
if  they  had  essayed  kinds  of  horsemanship  utterly  alien  to 
their  past  experience,  such  as  riding  mettled  thorough- 
breds in  a  steeple-chase,  or  the  like.  Other  things  being 
equal  (which,  however,  they  generally  are  not),  a  bad,  big 
horse  fed  on  oats  offers  a  rather  more  difficult  problem 
than  a  bad  little  horse  fed  on  grass.  After  Buffalo  Bill's 
men  had  returned,  I  occasionally  heard  it  said  that  they 
had  tried  cross-country  riding  in  England  and  had  shown 
themselves  pre-eminently  skilful  thereat,  domg  better  than 
the  English  fox-hunters,  but  this  I  take  the  liberty  to  dis- 
believe. I  was  in  England  at  the  time,  hunted  occasion- 


382  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

ally  myself,  and  was  with  many  of  the  men  who  were  all 
the  time  riding  in  the  most  famous  hunts ;  men,  too,  who 
were  greatly  impressed  with  the  exhibitions  of  rough  riding 
then  being  given  by  Buffalo  Bill  and  his  men,  and  who 
talked  of  them  much  ;  and  yet  I  never,  at  the  time,  heard 
of  an  instance  in  which  one  of  the  cowboys  rode  to  hounds 
with  any  marked  success.*  In  the  same  way  I  have  some- 
times in  New  York  or  London  heard  of  men  who,  it  was 
alleged,  had  been  out  West  and  proved  better  riders  than 
the  bronco-busters  themselves,  just  as  I  have  heard  of 
similar  men  who  were  able  to  go  out  hunting  in  the  Rockies 
or  on  the  plains  and  get  more  game  than  the  western  hun- 
ters ;  but  in  the  course  of  a  long  experience  in  the  West  I 
have  yet  to  see  any  of  these  men,  whether  from  the 
eastern  States  or  from  Europe,  actually  show  such 
superiority  or  perform  such  feats. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  compare  the  performances  of 
the  Australian  stock-riders  with  those  of  our  own  cowpunch- 
ers,  both  in  cow-work  and  in  riding.  The  Australians  have 
an  entirely  different  kind  of  saddle,  and  the  use  of  the  rope 
is  unknown  among  them.  A  couple  of  years  ago  the  famous 
western  rifle-shot,  Carver,  took  some  cowboys  out  to  Aus- 
tralia, and  I  am  informed  that  many  of  the  Australians 
began  themselves  to  practise  with  the  rope  after  seeing 
the  way  it  was  used  by  the  Americans.  An  Australian 
gentleman,  Mr.  A.  J.  Sage,  of  Melbourne,  to  whom  I  had 
written  asking  how  the  saddles  and  styles  of  riding  com- 
pared, answered  me  as  follows  : 

*  It  is,  however,  quite  possible,  now  that  Buffalo  Bill's  company  has  crossed  the 
water  several  times  that  a  number  of  the  cowboys  have  by  practice  become  proficient 
in  riding  to  hounds,  and  in  steeple-chasing. 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  383 

"  With  regard  to  saddles,  here  it  is  a  moot  question 
which  is  the  better,  yours  or  ours,  for  buck-jumpers.  Car- 
ver's boys  rode  in  their  own  saddles  against  our  Victorians 
in  theirs,  all  on  Australian  buckers,  and  honors  seemed 
easy.  Each  was  good  in  his  own  style,  but  the  horses 
were  not  what  I  should  call  really  good  buckers,  such  as 
you  might  get  on  a  back  station,  and  so  there  was  nothing 
in  the  show  that  could  unseat  the  cowboys.  It  is  only 
back  in  the  bush  that  you  can  get  a  really  good  bucker. 
I  have  often  seen  one  of  them  put  both  man  and  saddle 
off." 

This  last  is  a  feat  I  have  myself  seen  performed  in  the 
West.  I  suppose  the  amount  of  it  is  that  both  the  Amer- 
ican and  the  Australian  rough  riders  are,  for  their  own 
work,  just  as  good  as  men  possibly  can  be. 

One  spring  I  had  to  leave  the  East  in  the  midst  of  the 
hunting  season,  to  join  a  round-up  in  the  cattle  country  of 
western  Dakota,  and  it  was  curious  to  compare  the  totally 
different  styles  of  riding  of  the  cowboys  and  the  cross- 
country men.  A  stock-saddle  weighs  thirty  or  forty 
pounds  instead  of  ten  or  fifteen,  and  needs  an  utterly  dif- 
ferent seat  from  that  adopted  in  the  East.  A  cowboy 
rides  with  very  long  stirrups,  sitting  forked  well  down 
between  his  high  pommel  and  cantle,  and  depends  upon 
balance  as  well  as  on  the  grip  of  his  thighs.  In  cutting 
out  a  steer  from  a  herd,  in  breaking  a  vicious  wild  horse, 
in  sitting  a  bucking  bronco,  in  stopping  a  night  stampede 
of  many  hundred  maddened  animals,  or  in  the  perform- 
ance of  a  hundred  other  feats  of  reckless  and  daring 
horsemanship,  the  cowboy  is  absolutely  unequalled ;  and 


384  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

when  he  has  his  own  horse  gear  he  sits  his  animal  with 
the  ease  of  a  centaur.  Yet  he  is  quite  helpless  the  first 
time  he  gets  astride  one  of  the  small  eastern  saddles. 
One  summer,  while  purchasing  cattle  in  Iowa,  one  of  my 
ranch  foremen  had  to  get  on  an  ordinary  saddle  to  ride 
out  of  town  and  see  a  bunch  of  steers.  He  is  perhaps  the 
best  rider  on  the  ranch,  and  will  without  hesitation  mount 
and  master  beasts  that  I  doubt  if  the  boldest  rider  in  one 
of  our  eastern  hunts  would  care  to  tackle ;  yet  his 
uneasiness  on  the  new  saddle  was  fairly  comical.  At  first 
he  did  not  dare  to  trot,  and  the  least  plunge  of  the  horse 
bid  fair  to  unseat  him,  nor  did  he  begin  to  get  accustomed 
to  the  situation  until  the  very  end  of  the  journey.  In  fact,  the 
two  kinds  of  riding  are  so  very  different  that  a  man  only 
accustomed  to  one,  feels  almost  as  ill  at  ease  when  he 
first  tries  the  other  as  if  he  had  never  sat  on  a  horse's  back 
before.  It  is  rather  funny  to  see  a  man  who  only  knows 
one  kind,  and  is  conceited  enough  to  think  that  that  is 
really  the  only  kind  worth  knowing,  when  first  he  is 
brought  into  contact  with  the  other.  Two  or  three  times 
I  have  known  men  try  to  follow  hounds  on  stock-saddles, 
which  are  about  as  ill-suited  for  the  purpose  as  they  well 
can  be  ;  while  it  is  even  more  laughable  to  see  some  young 
fellow  from  the  East  or  from  England  who  thinks  he 
knows  entirely  too  much  about  horses  to  be  taught  by 
barbarians,  attempt  in  his  turn  to  do  cow-work  with  his 
ordinary  riding  or  hunting  rig.  It  must  be  said,  however, 
that  in  all  probability  cowboys  would  learn  to  ride  well 
across  country  much  sooner  than  the  average  cross-coun- 
try rider  would  master  the  dashing  and  peculiar  style  of 


Hunting  with  Hounds.  385 

horsemanship  shown  by  those  whose  life  business  is  to 
guard  the  wandering  herds  of  the  great  western  plains. 

Of  course,  riding  to  hounds,  like  all  sports  in  long 
settled,  thickly  peopled  countries,  fails  to  develop  in  its 
followers  some  of  the  hardy  qualities  necessarily  incident 
to  the  wilder  pursuits  of  the  mountain  and  the  forest 
While  I  was  on  the  frontier  I  was  struck  by  the  fact  that 
of  the  men  from  the  eastern  States  or  from  England  who 
had  shown  themselves  at  home  to  be  good  riders  to  hounds 
or  had  made  their  records  as  college  athletes,  a  larger 
proportion  failed  in  the  life  of  the  wilderness  than  was  the 
case  among  those  who  had  gained  their  experience  in  such 
rough  pastimes  as  mountaineering  in  the  high  Alps, 
winter  caribou-hunting  in  Canada,  or  deer-stalking — not 
deer-driving — in  Scotland. 

Nevertheless,  of  all  sports  possible  in  civilized  countries, 
riding  to  hounds  is  perhaps  the  best  if  followed  as  it  should 
be,  for  the  sake  of  the  strong  excitement,  with  as  much 
simplicity  as  possible,  and  not  merely  as  a  fashionable 
amusement.  It  tends  to  develop  moral  no  less  than 
physical  qualities ;  the  rider  needs  nerve  and  head ;  he 
must  possess  daring  and  resolution,  as  well  as  a  good  deal 
of  bodily  skill  and  a  certain  amount  of  wiry  toughness 
and  endurance. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

WOLVES   AND   WOLF-HOUNDS. 

THE  wolf  is  the  arch  type  of  ravin,  the  beast  of 
waste  and  desolation.     It  is  still  found  scattered 
thinly  throughout  all  the  wilder  portions  of  the 
United  States,  but  has  everywhere  retreated  from   the 
advance  of  civilization. 

Wolves  show  an  infinite  variety  in  color,  size,  physical 
formation,  and  temper.  Almost  all  the  varieties  inter- 
grade  with  one  another,  however,  so  that  it  is  very  diffi- 
cult to  draw  a  hard  and  fast  line  between  any  two  of 
them.  Nevertheless,  west  of  the  Mississippi  there  are 
found  two  distinct  types.  One  is  the  wolf  proper,  or  big 
wolf,  specifically  akin  to  the  wolves  of  the  eastern  States. 
The  other  is  the  little  coyote,  or  prairie  wolf.  The  coyote 
and  the  big  wolf  are  found  together  in  almost  all  the 
wilder  districts  from  the  Rio  Grande  to  the  valleys  of  the 
upper  Missouri  and  the  upper  Columbia.  Throughout 
this  region  there  is  always  a  sharp  line  of  demarkation, 
especially  in  size,  between  the  coyotes  and  the  big  wolves 
of  any  given  district ;  but  in  certain  districts  the  big 
wolves  are  very  much  larger  than  their  brethren  in  other 

386 


Wolves  and  IV olf -Hounds.         387 

districts.  In  the  upper  Columbia  country,  for  instance, 
they  are  very  large  ;  along  the  Rio  Grande  they  are  small. 
Dr.  Hart  Merriam  informs  me  that,  according  to  his  ex- 
perience, the  coyote  is  largest  in  southern  California.  In 
many  respects  the  coyote  differs  altogether  in  habits  from 
its  big  relative.  For  one  thing  it  is  far  more  tolerant  of 
man.  In  some  localities  coyotes  are  more  numerous 
around  settlements,  and  even  in  the  close  vicinity  of  large 
towns,  than  they  are  in  the  frowning  and  desolate  fast- 
nesses haunted  by  their  grim  elder  brother. 

Big  wolves  vary  far  more  in  color  than  the  coyotes  do. 
I  have  seen  white,  black,  red,  yellow,  brown,  gray,  and 
grizzled  skins,  and  others  representing  every  shade  be- 
tween, although  usually  each  locality  has  its  prevailing 
tint.  The  grizzled,  gray,  and  brown  often  have  precisely 
the  coat  of  the  coyote.  The  difference  in  size  among 
wolves  of  different  localities,  and  even  of  the  same  locality, 
is  quite  remarkable,  and  so,  curiously  enough,  is  the  dif- 
ference in  the  size  of  the  teeth,  in  some  cases  even  when 
the  body  of  one  wolf  is  as  big  as  that  of  another.  I  have 
seen  wolves  from  Texas  and  New  Mexico  which  were 
under-sized,  slim  animals  with  rather  small  tusks,  in  no 
way  to  be  compared  to  the  long-toothed  giants  of  their 
race  that  dwell  in  the  heavily  timbered  mountains  of  the 
Northwest  and  in  the  far  North.  As  a  rule,  the  teeth  of 
the  coyote  are  relatively  smaller  than  those  of  the  gray 
wolf. 

Formerly  wolves  were  incredibly  abundant  in  certain 
parts  of  the  country,  notably  on  the  great  plains,  where 
they  were  known  as  buffalo  wolves,  and  were  regular  at- 


388  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

tendants  on  the  great  herds  of  the  bison.  Every  traveller 
and  hunter  of  the  old  days  knew  them  as  among  the  most 
common  sights  of  the  plains,  and  they  followed  the  hunt- 
ing parties  and  emigrant  trains  for  the  sake  of  the  scraps 
left  in  camp.  Now,  however,  there  is  no  district  in  which 
they  are  really  abundant.  The  wolfers,  or  professional 
wolf-hunters,  who  killed  them  by  poisoning  for  the  sake  of 
their  fur,  and  the  cattle-men,  who  likewise  killed  them  by 
poisoning  because  of  their  raids  on  the  herds,  have  doubt- 
less been  the  chief  instruments  in  working  their  decima- 
tion on  the  plains.  In  the  '/o's,  and  even  in  the  early 
'8o's,  many  tens  of  thousands  of  wolves  were  killed  by  the 
wolfers  in  Montana  and  northern  Wyoming  and  western 
Dakota.  Nowadays  the  surviving  wolves  of  the  plains 
have  learned  caution  ;  they  no  longer  move  abroad  at 
midday,  and  still  less  do  they  dream  of  hanging  on  the 
footsteps  of  hunter  and  traveller.  Instead  of  being  one 
of  the  most  common  they  have  become  one  of  the  rarest 
sights  of  the  plains.  A  hunter  may  wander  far  and  wide 
through  the  plains  for  months  nowadays  and  never  see  a 
wolf,  though  he  will  probably  see  many  coyotes.  How- 
ever, the  diminution  goes  on,  not  steadily  but  by  fits  and 
starts,  and,  moreover,  the  beasts  now  and  then  change 
their  abodes,  and  appear  in  numbers  in  places  where  they 
have  been  scarce  for  a  long  period.  In  the  present  winter 
of  i892-'93  big  wolves  are  more  plentiful  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  my  ranch  than  they  have  been  for  ten  years,  and 
have  worked  some  havoc  among  the  cattle  and  young 
horses.  The  cowboys  have  been  carrying  on  the  usual 
vindictive  campaign  against  them  ;  a  number  have  been 


Wolves  and  Wolf -Hounds.         389 

poisoned,  and  a  number  of  others  have  fallen  victims  to 
their  greediness,  the  cowboys  surprising  them  when 
gorged  to  repletion  on  the  carcass  of  a  colt  or  calf,  and, 
in  consequence,  unable  to  run,  so  that  they  are  easily  rid- 
den down,  roped,  and  then  dragged  to  death. 

Yet  even  the  slaughter  wrought  by  man  in  certain 
localities  does  not  seem  adequate  to  explain  the  scarcity 
or  extinction  of  wolves,  throughout  the  country  at  large. 
In  most  places  they  are  not  followed  any  more  eagerly 
than  are  the  other  large  beasts  of  prey,  and  they  are 
usually  followed  with  less  success.  Of  all  animals  the 
wolf  is  the  shyest  and  hardest  to  slay.  It  is  almost  or 
quite  as  difficult  to  still-hunt  as  the  cougar,  and  is  far  more 
difficult  to  kill  with  hounds,  traps,  or  poison ;  yet  it 
scarcely  holds  its  own  as  well  as  the  great  cat,  and  it  does 
not  begin  to  hold  its  own  as  well  as  the  bear,  a  beast  cer- 
tainly more  readily  killed,  and  one  which  produces  fewer 
young  at  a  birth.  Throughout  the  East  the  black  bear 
is  common  in  many  localities  from  which  the  wolf  has 
vanished  completely.  It  at  present  exists  in  very  scanty 
numbers  in  northern  Maine  and  the  Adirondacks ;  is 
almost  or  quite  extinct  in  Pennsylvania ;  lingers  here  and 
there  in  the  mountains  from  West  Virginia  to  east  Ten- 
nessee, and  is  found  in  Florida  ;  but  is  everywhere  less 
abundant  than  the  bear.  It  is  possible  that  this  destruc- 
tion of  the  wolves  is  due  to  some  disease  among  them, 
perhaps  to  hydrophobia,  a  terrible  malady  from  which  it 
is  known  that  they  suffer  greatly  at  times.  Perhaps  the 
bear  is  helped  by  its  habit  of  hibernating,  which  frees  it 
from  most  dangers  during  winter ;  but  this  cannot  be  the 


39°  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

complete  explanation,  for  in  the  South  it  does  not  hiber- 
nate, and  yet  holds  its  own  as  well  as  in  the  North.  What 
makes  it  all  the  more  curious  that  the  American  wolf 
should  disappear  sooner  than  the  bear  is  that  the  reverse 
is  the  case  with  the  allied  species  of  Europe,  where  the 
bear  is  much  sooner  killed  out  of  the  land. 

Indeed  the  differences  of  this  sort  between  nearly  re- 
lated animals  are  literally  inexplicable.  Much  of  the 
difference  in  temperament  between  such  closely  allied 
species  as  the  American  and  European  bears  and  wolves 
is  doubtless  due  to  their  surroundings  and  to  the  instincts 
they  have  inherited  through  many  generations  ;  but  for 
much  of  the  variation  it  is  not  possible  to  offer  any  expla- 
nation. In  the  same  way  there  are  certain  physical  dif- 
ferences for  which  it  is  very  hard  to  account,  as  the  same 
conditions  seem  to  operate  in  directly  reverse  ways  with 
different  animals.  No  one  can  explain  the  process  of  natural 
selection  which  has  resulted  in  the  otter  of  America  being 
larger  than  the  otter  of  Europe,  while  the  badger  is 
smaller ;  in  the  mink  being  with  us  a  much  stouter  animal 
than  its  Scandinavian  and  Russian  kinsman,  while  the 
reverse  is  true  of  our  sable  or  pine  marten.  No  one 
can  say  why  the  European  red  deer  should  be  a  pigmy 
compared  to  its  giant  brother,  the  American  wapiti ;  why 
the  Old  World  elk  should  average  smaller  in  size  than 
the  almost  indistinguishable  New  World  moose  ;  and  yet 
the  bison  of  Lithuania  and  the  Caucasus  be  on  the  whole 
larger  and  more  formidable  than  its  American  cousin.  In 
the  same  way  no  one  can  tell  why  under  like  conditions 
some  game,  such  as  the  white  goat  and  the  spruce  grouse, 


Wolves  and  Wo  If -Hounds.         391 

should  be  tamer  than  other  closely  allied  species,  like  the 
mountain  sheep  and  ruffed  grouse.  No  one  can  say  why 
on  the  whole  the  wolf  of  Scandinavia  and  northern  Russia 
should  be  larger  and  more  dangerous  than  the  average 
wolf  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  while  between  the  bears  of 
the  same  regions  the  comparison  must  be  exactly  reversed. 

The  difference  even  among  the  wolves  of  different 
sections  of  our  own  country  is  very  notable.  It  may  be 
true  that  the  species  as  a  whole  is  rather  weaker  and  less 
ferocious  than  the  European  wolf ;  but  it  is  certainly  not 
true  of  the  wolves  of  certain  localities.  The  great  tim- 
ber wolf  of  the  central  and  northern  chains  of  the  Rockies 
and  coast  ranges  is  in  every  way  a  more  formidable  crea- 
ture than  the  buffalo  wolf  of  the  plains,  although  they 
intergrade.  The  skins  and  skulls  of  the  wolves  of  north- 
western Montana  and  Washington  which  I  have  seen 
were  quite  as  large  and  showed  quite  as  stout  claws  and 
teeth  as  the  skins  and  skulls  of  Russian  and  Scandinavian 
wolves,  and  I  believe  that  these  great  timber  wolves  are 
in  every  way  as  formidable  as  their  Old  World  kinsfolk. 
However,  they  live  where  they  come  in  contact  with  a 
population  of  rifle-bearing  frontier  hunters,  who  are  very 
different  from  European  peasants  or  Asiatic  tribesmen  ; 
and  they  have,  even  when  most  hungry,  a  wholesome 
dread  of  human  beings.  Yet  I  doubt  if  an  unarmed  man 
would  be  entirely  safe  should  he,  while  alone  in  the  forest 
in  midwinter,  encounter  a  fair-sized  pack  of  ravenously 
hungry  timber  wolves. 

A  full-grown  dog-wolf  of  the  northern  Rockies,  in 
exceptional  instances,  reaches  a  height  of  thirty-two  inches 


392  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

and  a  weight  of  130  pounds;  a  big  buffalo-wolf  of  the 
upper  Missouri  stands  thirty  or  thirty-one  inches  at  the 
shoulder  and  weighs  about  no  pounds;  a  Texan  wolf 
may  not  reach  over  eighty  pounds.  The  bitch-wolves  are 
smaller ;  and  moreover  there  is  often  great  variation  even 
in  the  wolves  of  closely  neighboring  localities. 

The  wolves  of  the  southern  plains  were  not  often  for- 
midable to  large  animals,  even  in  the  days  when  they  most 
abounded.  They  rarely  attacked  the  horses  of  the  hunter, 
and  indeed  were  but  little  regarded  by  these  experienced 
animals.  They  were  much  more  likely  to  gnaw  off  the 
lariat  with  which  the  horse  was  tied,  than  to  try  to  molest 
the  steed  himself.  They  preferred  to  prey  on  young  ani- 
mals, or  on  the  weak  and  disabled.  They  rarely  molested 
a  full-grown  cow  or  steer,  still  less  a  full-grown  buffalo, 
and,  if  they  did  attack  such  an  animal,  it  was  only  when 
emboldened  by  numbers.  In  the  plains  of  the  upper  Mis- 
souri and  Saskatchewan  the  wolf  was,  and  is,  more  danger- 
ous, while  in  the  northern  Rockies  his  courage  and 
ferocity  attain  their  highest  pitch.  Near  my  own  ranch 
the  wolves  have  sometimes  committed  great  depredations 
on  cattle,  but  they  seem  to  have  queer  freaks  of  slaughter. 
Usually  they  prey  only  upon  calves  and  sickly  animals ; 
but  in  midwinter  I  have  known  one  single-handed  to  at- 
tack and  kill  a  well-grown  steer  or  cow,  disabling  its  quarry 
by  rapid  snaps  at  the  hams  or  flanks.  Only  rarely  have  I 
known  it  to  seize  by  the  throat.  Colts  are  likewise  a 
favorite  prey,  ftut  with  us  wolves  rarely  attack  full-grown 
horses.  They  are  sometimes  very  bold  in  their  assaults, 
falling  on  the  stock  while  immediately  around  the  ranch 


Wolves  and  Wolf -Hounds.         393 

houses.  They  even  venture  into  the  hamlet  of  Medora 
itself  at  night — as  the  coyotes  sometimes  do  by  day.  In 
the  spring  of  '92  we  put  on  some  eastern  two-year-old 
steers  ;  they  arrived,  and  were  turned  loose  from  the  stock- 
yards, in  a  snowstorm,  though  it  was  in  early  May.  Next 
morning  we  found  that  one  had  been  seized,  slain,  and 
partially  devoured  by  a  big  wolf  at  the  very  gate  of  the 
stockyard  ;  probably  the  beast  had  seen  it  standing  near 
the  yard  after  nightfall,  feeling  miserable  after  its  journey, 
in  the  storm  and  its  unaccustomed  surroundings,  and 
had  been  emboldened  to  make  the  assault  so  near  town 
by  the  evident  helplessness  of  the  prey. 

The  big  timber  wolves  of  the  northern  Rocky  Moun- 
tains attack  every  four-footed  beast  to  be  found  where 
they  live.  They  are  far  from  contenting  themselves  with 
hunting  deer  and  snapping  up  the  pigs  and  sheep  of  the 
farm.  When  the  weather  gets  cold  and  food  scarce  they 
band  together  in  small  parties,  perhaps  of  four  or  five  in- 
dividuals, and  then  assail  anything,  even  a  bear  or  a 
panther.  A  bull  elk  or  bull  moose,  when  on  its  guard, 
makes  a  most  dangerous  fight ;  but  a  single  wolf  will 
frequently  master  the  cow  of  either  animal,  as  well  as 
domestic  cattle  and  horses.  In  attacking  such  large  game, 
however,  the  wolves  like  to  act  in  concert,  one  springing 
at  the  animal's  head,  and  attracting  its  attention,  while  the 
other  hamstrings  it.  Nevertheless,  one  such  big  wolf  will 
kill  an  ordinary  horse.  A  man  I  knew,  who  was  engaged 
in  packing  into  the  Cceur  d' Alines,  once  witnessed  such 
a  feat  on  the  part  of  a  wolf.  He  was  taking  his  pack 
train  down  into  a  valley  when  he  saw  a  horse  grazing 


394  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

• 

therein  ;  it  had  been  turned  loose  by  another  packing  out- 
fit, because  it  became  exhausted.  He  lost  sight  of  it  as 
the  trail  went  down  a  zigzag,  and  while  it  was  thus  out  of 
sight  he  suddenly  heard  it  utter  the  appalling  scream,  unlike 
and  more  dreadful  than  any  other  sound,  which  a  horse 
only  utters  in  extreme  fright  or  agony.  The  scream  was 
repeated,  and  as  he  came  in  sight  again  he  saw  that  a 
great  wolf  had  attacked  the  horse.  The  poor  animal  had 
been  bitten  terribly  in  its  haunches  and  was  cowering  upon 
them,  while  the  wolf  stood  and  looked  at  it  a  few  paces 
off.  In  a  moment  or  two  the  horse  partially  recovered 
and  made  a  desperate  bound  forward,  starting  at  full  gal- 
lop. Immediately  the  wolf  was  after  it,  overhauled  it  in 
three  or  four  jumps,  and  then  seized  it  by  the  hock,  while 
its  legs  were  extended,  with  such  violence  as  to  bring  it 
completely  back  on  its  haunches.  It  again  screamed  pit- 
eously ;  and  this  time  with  a  few  savage  snaps  the  wolf 
hamstrung  and  partially  disembowelled  it,  and  it  fell  over, 
having  made  no  attempt  to  defend  itself.  I  have  heard  of 
more  than  one  incident  of  this  kind.  If  a  horse  is  a  good 
fighter,  however,  as  occasionally,  though  not  often,  hap- 
pens, it  is  a  most  difficult  prey  for  any  wild  beast,  and 
some  veteran  horses  have  no  fear  of  wolves  whatsoever, 
well  knowing  that  they  can  either  strike  them  down 
with  their  fore-feet  or  repulse  them  by  lashing  out 
behind. 

Wolves  are  cunning  beasts  and  will  often  try  to  lull 
their  prey  into  unsuspicion  by  playing  round  and  cutting 
capers.  I  once  saw  a  young  deer  and  a  wolf-cub  together 
near  the  hut  of  the  settler  who  had  captured  both.  The 


Wolves  and  Wolf-Hounds.         395 

wolf  was  just  old  enough  to  begin  to  feel  vicious  and  blood- 
thirsty, and  to  show  symptoms  of  attacking  the  deer.  On 
the  occasion  in  question  he  got  loose  and  ran  towards  it, 
but  it  turned,  and  began  to  hit  him  with  its  fore-feet,  seem- 
ingly in  sport ;  whereat  he  rolled  over  on  his  back  before 
it,  and  acted  like  a  puppy  at  play.  Soon  it  turned  and 
walked  off ;  immediately  the  wolf,  with  bristling  hair, 
crawled  after,  and  with  a  pounce  seized  it  by  the  haunch, 
and  would  doubtless  have  murdered  the  bleating,  strug- 
gling creature,  had  not  the  bystanders  interfered. 

Where  there  are  no  domestic  animals,  wolves  feed  on 
almost  anything  from  a  mouse  to  an  elk.  They  are  re- 
doubted enemies  of  foxes.  They  are  easily  able  to  over- 
take them  in  fair  chase,  and  kill  numbers.  If  the  fox  can 
get  into  the  underbrush,  however,  he  can  dodge  around 
much  faster  than  the  wolf,  and  so  escape  pursuit.  Some- 
times one  wolf  will  try  to  put  a  fox  out  of  a  cover  while 
another  waits  outside  to  snap  him  up.  Moreover,  the 
wolf  kills  even  closer  kinsfolk  than  the  fox.  When  pressed 
by  hunger  it  will  undoubtedly  sometimes  seize  a  coyote, 
tear  it  in  pieces  and  devour  it,  although  during  most  of 
the  year  the  two  animals  live  in  perfect  harmony.  I  once 
myself,  while  out  in  the  deep  snow,  came  across  the  re- 
mains of  a  coyote  that  had  been  killed  in  this  manner. 
Wolves  are  also  very  fond  of  the  flesh  of  dogs,  and  if  they 
get  a  chance  promptly  kill  and  eat  any  dog  they  can  mas- 
ter— and  there  are  but  few  that  they  cannot.  Neverthe- 
less, I  have  been  told  of  one  instance  in  which  a  wolf  struck 
up  an  extraordinary  friendship  with  a  strayed  dog,  and  the 
two  lived  and  hunted  together  for  many  months,  being 


396  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

frequently   seen   by   the   settlers   of   the   locality.     This 
occurred  near  Thompson's  Falls,  Montana. 

Usually  wolves  are  found  singly,  in  pairs,  or  in  family 
parties,  each  having  a  large  beat  over  which  it  regularly 
hunts,  and  also  at  times  shifting  its  grounds  and  travelling 
immense  distances  in  order  to  take  up  a  temporary  abode 
in  some  new  locality — for  they  are  great  wanderers.  It  is 
only  under  stress  of  severe  weather  that  they  band  to- 
gether in  packs.  They  prefer  to  creep  on  their  prey  and 
seize  it  by  a  sudden  pounce,  but,  unlike  the  cougar,  they 
also  run  it  down  in  fair  chase.  Their  slouching,  tireless 
gallop  enables  them  often  to  overtake  deer,  antelope,  or 
other  quarry ;  though  under  favorable  circumstances, 
especially  if  near  a  lake,  the  latter  frequently  escape. 
Whether  wolves  run  cunning  I  do  not  know  ;  but  I  think 
they  must,  for  coyotes  certainly  do.  A  coyote  cannot  run 
down  a  jack-rabbit ;  but  two  or  three  working  together 
will  often  catch  one.  Once  I  saw  three  start  a  jack,  which 
ran  right  away  from  them ;  but  they  spread  out,  and  fol- 
lowed. Pretty  soon  the  jack  turned  slightly,  and  ran  near 
one  of  the  outside  ones,  saw  it,  became  much  frightened, 
and  turned  at  right  angles,  so  as  soon  to  nearly  run  into 
the  other  outside  one,  which  had  kept  straight  on.  This 
happened  several  times,  and  then  the  confused  jack  lay 
down  under  a  sage-bush  and  was  seized.  So  I  have  seen 
two  coyotes  attempting  to  get  at  a  newly  dropped  antelope 
kid.  One  would  make  a  feint  of  attack,  and  lure  the  dam 
into  a  rush  at  him,  while  the  other  stole  round  to  get  at 
the  kid.  The  dam,  as  always  with  these  spirited  little 
prong-bucks,  made  a  good  fight,  and  kept  the  assailants 


Wolves  and  Wolf -Hounds.         397 

at  bay ;  yet  I  think  they  would  have  succeeded  in  the  end, 
had  I  not  interfered.  Coyotes  are  bold  and  cunning  in 
raiding  the  settlers'  barn-yards  for  lambs  and  hens  ;  and 
they  have  an  especial  liking  for  tame  cats.  If  there  are 
coyotes  in  the  neighborhood  a  cat  which  gets  into  the 
habit  of  wandering  from  home  is  surely  lost. 

Though,  I  have  never  known  wolves  to  attack  a  man, 
yet  in  the  wilder  portion  of  the  far  Northwest  I  have  heard 
them  come  around  camp  very  close,  growling  so  savagely 
as  to  make  one  almost  reluctant  to  leave  the  camp  fire  and 
go  out  into  the  darkness  unarmed.  Once  I  was  camped 
in  the  fall  near  a  lonely  little  lake  in  the  mountains,  by  the 
edge  of  quite  a  broad  stream.  Soon  after  nightfall  three 
or  four  wolves  came  around  camp  and  kept  me  awake  by 
their  sinister  and  dismal  howling.  Two  or  three  times 
they  came  so  close  to  the  fire  that  I  could  hear  them  snap 
their  jaws  and  growl,  and  at  one  time  I  positively  thought 
that  they  intended  to  try  to  get  into  camp,  so  excited  were 
they  by  the  smell  of  the  fresh  meat.  After  a  while  they 
stopped  howling ;  and  then  all  was  silent  for  an  hour  or 
so.  I  let  the  fire  go  out  and  was  turning  into  bed  when 
I  suddenly  heard  some  animal  of  considerable  size  come 
down  to  the  stream  nearly  opposite  me  and  begin  to  splash 
across,  first  wading,  then  swimming.  It  was  pitch  dark 
and  I  could  not  possibly  see,  but  I  felt  sure  it  was  a  wolf. 
However  after  coming  half-way  over  it  changed  its  mind 
and  swam  back  to  the  opposite  bank ;  nor  did  I  see  or 
hear  anything  more  of  the  night  marauders. 

Five  or  six  times  on  the  plains  or  on  my  ranch  I  have 
had  shots  at  wolves,  always  obtained  by  accident  and  al- 


398  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

ways,  I  regret  to  say,  missed.  Often  the  wolf  when  seen 
was  running  at  full  speed  for  cover,  or  else  was  so  far  off 
that  though  motionless  my  shots  went  wide  of  it.  But 
once  have  I  with  my  own  rifle  killed  a  wolf,  and  this  was 
while  travelling  with  a  pack  train  in  the  mountains.  We 
had  been  making  considerable  noise,  and  I  never  under- 
stood how  an  animal  so  wary  permitted  our  near  approach. 
He  did,  nevertheless,  and  just  as  we  came  to  a  little  stream 
which  we  were  to  ford  I  saw  him  get  on  a  dead  log  some 
thirty  yards  distant  and  walk  slowly  off  with  his  eyes 
turned  toward  us.  The  first  shot  smashed  his  shoulders 
and  brought  him  down. 

The  wolf  is  one  of  the  animals  which  can  only  be 
hunted  successfully  with  dogs.  Most  dogs  however  do 
not  take  at  all  kindly  to  the  pursuit.  A  wolf  is  a  terrible 
fighter.  He  will  decimate  a  pack  of  hounds  by  rabid 
snaps  with  his  giant  jaws  while  suffering  little  damage 
himself ;  nor  are  the  ordinary  big  dogs,  supposed  to  be 
fighting  dogs,  able  to  tackle  him  without  special  training. 
I  have  known  one  wolf  to  kill  a  bulldog  which  had  rushed 
at  it  with  a  single  snap,  while  another  which  had  entered 
the  yard  of  a  Montana  ranch  house  slew  in  quick  succes- 
sion both  of  the  large  mastiffs  by  which  it  was  assailed. 
The  immense  agility  and  ferocity  of  the  wild  beast,  the 
terrible  snap  of  his  long-toothed  jaws,  and  the  admirable 
training  in  which  he  always  is,  give  him  a  great  advantage 
over  fat,  small-toothed,  smooth-skinned  dogs,  even  though 
they  are  nominally  supposed  to  belong  to  the  fighting 
classes.  In  the  way  that  bench  competitions  are  arranged 
nowadays  this  is  but  natural,  as  there  is  no  temptation  to 


Wolves  and  Wolf-Hounds.         399 

produce  a  worthy  class  of  fighting  dog  when  the  rewards  are 
given  upon  technical  points  wholly  unconnected  with  the 
dog's  usefulness.  A  prize-winning  mastiff  or  bulldog  may 
be  almost  useless  for  the  only  purposes  for  which  his  kind 
is  ever  useful  at  all.  A  mastiff,  if  properly  trained  and  of 
sufficient  size,  might  possibly  be  able  to  meet  a  young  or 
undersized  Texan  wolf ;  but  I  have  never  seen  a  dog  of 
this  variety  which  I  would  esteem  a  match  single-handed 
for  one  of  the  huge  timber  wolves  of  western  Montana. 
Even  if  the  dog  was  the  heavier  of  the  two,  his  teeth 
and  claws  would  be  very  much  smaller  and  weaker  and  his 
hide  less  tough.  Indeed  I  have  known  of  but  one  dog 
which  single-handed  encountered  and  slew  a  wolf ;  this 
was  the  large  vicious  mongrel  whose  feats  are  recorded  in 
my  Hunting  Trips  of  a  Ranchman. 

General  Marcy  of  the  United  States  Army  informed 
me  that  he  once  chased  a  huge  wolf  which  had  gotten 
away  with  a  small  trap  on  its  foot.  It  was,  I  believe,  in 
Wisconsin,  and  he  had  twenty  or  thirty  hounds  with  him, 
but  they  were  entirely  untrained  to  wolf-hunting,  and 
proved  unable  to  stop  the  crippled  beast.  Few  of  them 
would  attack  it  at  all,  and  those  that  did  went  at  it  singly 
and  with  a  certain  hesitation,  and  so  each  in  turn  was 
disabled  by  a  single  terrible  snap,  and  left  bleeding  on 
the  snow.  General  Wade  Hampton  tells  me  that  in  the 
course  of  his  fifty  years'  hunting  with  horse  and  hound  in 
Mississippi,  he  has  on  several  occasions  tried  his  pack  of 
fox-hounds  (southern  deer-hounds)  after  a  wolf.  He  found 
that  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  however,  that  he 
could  persuade  them  to  so  much  as  follow  the  trail 


400  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Usually,  as  soon  they  came  across  it,  they  would  growl, 
bristle  up,  and  then  retreat  with  their  tails  between  their 
legs.  But  one  of  his  dogs  ever  really  tried  to  master  a 
wolf  by  itself,  and  this  one  paid  for  its  temerity  with  its 
life  ;  for  while  running  a  wolf  in  a  canebrake  the  beast 
turned  and  tore  it  to  pieces.  Finally  General  Hampton 
succeeded  in  getting  a  number  of  his  hounds  so  they 
would  at  any  rate  follow  the  trail  in  full  cry,  and  thus 
drive  the  wolf  out  of  the  thicket,  and  give  a  chance  to  the 
hunter  to  get  a  shot.  In  this  way  he  killed  two  or  three. 
The  true  way  to  kill  wolves,  however,  is  to  hunt  them 
with  greyhounds  on  the  great  plains.  Nothing  more 
exciting  than  this  sport  can  possibly  be  imagined.  It  is 
not  always  necessary  that  the  greyhounds  should  be  of 
absolutely  pure  blood.  Prize-winning  dogs  of  high  pedi- 
gree often  prove  useless  for  the  purposes.  If  by  careful 
choice,  however,  a  ranchman  can  get  together  a  pack 
composed  both  of  the  smooth-haired  greyhound  and  the 
rough-haired  Scotch  deer-hound,  he  can  have  excellent 
sport.  The  greyhounds  sometimes  do  best  if  they  have 
a  slight  cross  of  bulldog  in  their  veins  ;  but  this  is  not 
necessary.  If  once  a  greyhound  can  be  fairly  entered  to 
the  sport  and  acquires  confidence,  then  its  wonderful 
agility,  its  sinewy  strength  and  speed,  and  the  terrible 
snap  with  which  its  jaws  come  together,  render  it  a  most 
formidable  assailant.  Nothing  can  possibly  exceed  the 
gallantry  with  which  good  greyhounds,  when  their  blood 
is  up,  fling  themselves  on  a  wolf  or  any  other  foe.  There 
does  not  exist,  and  there  never  has  existed  on  the  wide 
earth,  a  more  perfect  type  of  dauntless  courage  than  such 


Wolves  and  Wolf-Hounds.         401 

a  hound.  Not  Gushing  when  he  steered  his  little  launch 
through  the  black  night  against  the  great  ram  Albemarle, 
not  Custer  dashing  into  the  valley  of  the  Rosebud  to  die 
with  all  his  men,  not  Farragut  himself  lashed  in  the 
rigging  of  the  Hartford  as  she  forged  past  the  forts  to 
encounter  her  iron-clad  foe,  can  stand  as  a  more  perfect 
type  of  dauntless  valor. 

Once  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  witness  a  very  exciting 
hunt  of  this  character  among  the  foot-hills  of  the  northern 
Rockies.  I  was  staying  at  the  house  of  a  friendly  cow- 
man, whom  I  will  call  Judge  Yancy  Stump.  Judge  Yancy 
Stump  was  a  Democrat  who,  as  he  phrased  it,  had  fought 
for  his  Democracy ;  that  is,  he  had  been  in  the  Confed- 
erate Army.  He  was  at  daggers  drawn  with  his  nearest 
neighbor,  a  cross-grained  mountain  farmer,  who  may  be 
known  as  old  man  Prindle.  Old  man  Prindle  had  been 
in  the  Union  Army,  and  his  Republicanism  was  of  the 
blackest  and  most  uncompromising  type.  There  was  one 
point,  however,  on  which  the  two  came  together.  They 
were  exceedingly  fond  of  hunting  with  hounds.  The 
Judge  had  three  or  four  track-hounds,  and  four  of  what 
he  called  swift-hounds,  the  latter  including  one  pure-bred 
greyhound  bitch  of  wonderful  speed  and  temper,  a  dun- 
colored  yelping  animal  which  was  a  cross  between  a  grey- 
hound and  a  fox-hound,  and  two  others  that  were  crosses 
between  a  greyhound  and  a  wire-haired  Scotch  deer-hound. 
Old  man  Prindle's  contribution  to  the  pack  consisted  of 
two  immense  brindled  mongrels  of  great  strength  and 
ferocious  temper.  They  were  unlike  any  dogs  I  have 
ever  seen  in  this  country.  Their  mother  herself  was  a 


402  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

cross  between  a  bull  mastiff  and  a  Newfoundland,  while 
the  father  was  described  as  being  a  big  dog  that  belonged 
to  a  "  Dutch  Count."  The  "  Dutch  Count"  was  an  out- 
cast German  noble,  who  had  drifted  to  the  West,  and,  after 
failing  in  the  mines  and  failing  in  the  cattle  country,  had 
died  in  a  squalid  log  shanty  while  striving  to  eke  out  an 
existence  as  a  hunter  among  the  foot-hills.  His  dog,  I 
presume,  from  the  description  given  me,  must  have  been 
a  boar-hound  or  Ulm  dog. 

As  I  was  very  anxious  to  see  a  wolf-hunt  the  Judge 
volunteered  to  get  one  up,  and  asked  old  man  Prindle  to 
assist,  for  the  sake  of  his  two  big  fighting  dogs  ;  though 
the  very  names  of  the  latter,  General  Grant  and  Old  Abe, 
were  gall  and  wormwood  to  the  unreconstructed  soul  of 
the  Judge.  Still  they  were  the  only  dogs  anywhere 
around  capable  of  tackling  a  savage  timber  wolf,  and 
without  their  aid  the  Judge's  own  high-spirited  animals 
ran  a  serious  risk  of  injury,  for  they  were  altogether  too 
game  to  let  any  beast  escape  without  a  struggle. 

Luck  favored  us.  Two  wolves  had  killed  a  calf  and 
dragged  it  into  a  long  patch  of  dense  brush  where  there 
was  a  little  spring,  the  whole  furnishing  admirable  cover 
for  any  wild  beast.  Early  in  the  morning  we  started  on 
horseback  for  this  bit  of  cover,  which  was  some  three 
miles  off.  The  party  consisted  of  the  Judge,  old  man 
Prindle,  a  cowboy,  myself,  and  the  dogs.  The  Judge  and 
I  carried  our  rifles  and  the  cowboy  his  revolver,  but 
old  man  Prindle  had  nothing  but  a  heavy  whip,  for  he 
swore,  with  many  oaths,  that  no  one  should  interfere  with 
his  big  dogs,  for  by  themselves  they  would  surely  "make 


Wolves  and  Wolf-Hounds.         403 

the  wolf  feel  sicker  than  a  stuck  hog."  Our  shaggy  ponies 
racked  along  at  a  five-mile  gait  over  the  dewy  prairie 
grass.  The  two  big  dogs  trotted  behind  their  master, 
grim  and  ferocious.  The  track-hounds  were  tied  Tn 
couples,  and  the  beautiful  greyhounds  loped  lightly  and 
gracefully  alongside  the  horses.  The  country  was 
fine.  A  mile  to  our  right  a  small  plains  river  wound  in 
long  curves  between  banks  fringed  with  cottonwoods. 
Two  or  three  miles  to  our  left  the  foot-hills  rose  sheer  and 
bare,  with  clumps  of  black  pine  and  cedar  in  their  gorges. 
We  rode  over  gently  rolling  prairie,  with  here  and  there 
patches  of  brush  at  the  bottoms  of  the  slopes  around  the 
dry  watercourses. 

At  last  we  reached  a  somewhat  deeper  valley,  in  which 
the  wolves  were  harbored.  Wolves  lie  close  in  the  day- 
time and  will  not  leave  cover  if  they  can  help  it ;  and  as 
they  had  both  food  and  water  within  we  knew  it  was  most 
unlikely  that  this  couple  would  be  gone.  The  valley  was 
a  couple  of  hundred  yards  broad  and  three  or  four  times 
as  long,  filled  with  a  growth  of  ash  and  dwarf  elm  and 
cedar,  thorny  underbrush  choking  the  spaces  between. 
Posting  the  cowboy,  to  whom  he  gave  his  rifle,  with  two 
greyhounds  on  one  side  of  the  upper  end,  and  old  man 
Prindle  with  two  others  on  the  opposite  side,  while  I  was 
left  at  the  lower  end  to  guard  against  the  possibility  of 
the  wolves  breaking  back,  the  Judge  himself  rode  into 
the  thicket  near  me  and  loosened  the  track-hounds  to  let 
them  find  the  wolves'  trail.  The  big  dogs  also  were  un- 
coupled and  allowed  to  go  in  with  the  hounds.  Their 
power  of  scent  was  very  poor,  but  they  were  sure  to  be 


404  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

guided  aright  by  the  baying  of  the  hounds,  and  their  pres- 
ence would  give  confidence  to  the  latter  and  make  them 
ready  to  rout  the  wolves  out  of  the  thicket,  which  they 
would  probably  have  shrunk  from  doing  alone.  There  was 
a  moment's  pause  of  expectation  after  the  Judge  entered 
the  thicket  with  his  hounds.  We  sat  motionless  on  our 
horses,  eagerly  looking  through  the  keen  fresh  morning 
air.  Then  a  clamorous  baying  from  the  thicket  in  which 
both  the  horseman  and  dogs  had  disappeared  showed  that 
the  hounds  had  struck  the  trail  of  their  quarry  and  were 
running  on  a  hot  scent.  For  a  couple  of  minutes  we  could 
not  be  quite  certain  which  way  the  game  was  going  to 
break.  The  hounds  ran  zigzag  through  the  brush, 
as  we  could  tell  by  their  baying,  and  once  some  yelping 
and  a  great  row  showed  that  they  had  come  rather  closer 
than  they  had  expected  upon  at  least  one  of  the  wolves. 

In  another  minute,  however,  the  latter  found  it  too 
hot  for  them  and  bolted  from  the  thicket.  My  first  notice 
of  this  was  seeing  the  cowboy,  who  was  standing  by  the 
side  of  his  horse,  suddenly  throw  up  his  rifle  and  fire, 
while  the  greyhounds  who  had  been  springing  high  in  the 
air,  half  maddened  by  the  clamor  in  the  thicket  below,  for 
a  moment  dashed  off  the  wrong  way,  confused  by  the 
report  of  the  gun.  I  rode  for  all  I  was  worth  to  where 
the  cowboy  stood,  and  instantly  caught  a  glimpse  of  two 
wolves,  grizzled-gray  and  brown,  which  having  been  turned 
by  his  shot  had  started  straight  over  the  hill  across  the 
plain  toward  the  mountains  three  miles  away.  As  soon 
as  I  saw  them  I  saw  also  that  the  rearmost  of  the  couple 
had  been  hit  somewhere  in  the  body  and  was  lagging 


Wolves  and  Wolf-Hounds.         405 

behind,  the  blood  running  from  its  flanks,  while  the  two 
greyhounds  were  racing  after  it  ;  and  at  the  same  moment 
the  track-hounds  and  the  big  dogs  burst  out  of  the  thicket, 
yelling  savagely  as  they  struck  the  bloody  trail.  The 
wolf  was  hard  hit,  and  staggered  as  he  ran.  He  did  not 
have  a  hundred  yards'  start  of  the  dogs,  and  in  less  than 
a  minute  one  of  the  greyhounds  ranged  up  and  passed  him 
with  a  savage  snap  that  brought  him  too  ;  and  before  he 
could  recover  the  whole  pack  rushed  at  him.  Weakened  as 
he  was  he  could  make  no  effective  fight  against  so  many 
foes,  and  indeed  had  a  chance  for  but  one  or  two  rapid 
snaps  before  he  was  thrown  down  and  completely  covered 
by  the  bodies  of  his  enemies.  Yet  with  one  of  these  snaps 
he  did  damage,  as  a  shrill  yell  told,  and  in  a  second  an 
over-rash  track-hound  came  out  of  the  struggle  with  a  deep 
gash  across  his  shoulders.  The  worrying,  growling,  and 
snarling  were  terrific,  but  in  a  minute  the  heaving  mass 
grew  motionless  and  the  dogs  drew  off,  save  one  or  two 
that  still  continued  to  worry  the  dead  wolf  as  it  lay  stark 
and  stiff  with  glazed  eyes  and  rumpled  fur. 

No  sooner  were  we  satisfied  that  it  was  dead  than  the 
Judge,  with  cheers  and  oaths  and  crackings  of  his  whip, 
urged  the  dogs  after  the  other  wolf.  The  two  greyhounds 
that  had  been  with  old  man  Prindle  had  fortunately  not 
been  able  to  see  the  wolves  when  they  first  broke  from 
the  cover,  and  never  saw  the  wounded  wolf  at  all,  starting 
off  at  full  speed  after  the  unwounded  one  the  instant  he 
topped  the  crest  of  the  hill.  He  had  taken  advantage  of 
a  slight  hollow  and  turned,  and  now  the  chase  was  cross- 
ing us  half  a  mile  away.  With  whip  and  spur  we  flew 


406  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

towards  them,  our  two  greyhounds  stretching  out  in  front 
and  leaving  us  as  if  we  were  standing  still,  the  track-hounds 
and  big  dogs  running  after  them  just  ahead  of  the  horses. 
Fortunately  the  wolf  plunged  for  a  moment  into  a  little 
brushy  hollow  and  again  doubled  back,  and  this  gave  us 
a  chance  to  see  the  end  of  the  chase  from  nearby.  The 
two  greyhounds  which  had  first  taken  up  the  pursuit  were 
then  but  a  short  distance  behind.  Nearer  they  crept  until 
they  were  within  ten  yards,  and  then  with  a  tremendous 
race  the  little  bitch  ran  past  him  and  inflicted  a  vicious 
bite  in  the  big  beast's  ham.  He  whirled  around  like  a 
top  and  his  jaws  clashed  like  those  of  a  sprung  bear-trap, 
but  quick  though  he  was  she  was  quicker  and  just  cleared 
his  savage  rush.  In  another  moment  he  resumed  his 
flight  at  full  speed,  a  speed  which  only  that  of  the  grey- 
hounds exceeded  ;  but  almost  immediately  the  second  grey- 
hound ranged  alongside,  and  though  he  was  not  able  to 
bite,  because  the  wolf  kept  running  with  its  head  turned 
around  threatening  him,  yet  by  his  feints  he  delayed  the 
beast's  flight  so  that  in  a  moment  or  two  the  remaining 
couple  of  swift  hounds  arrived  on  the  scene.  For  a 
moment  the  wolf  and  all  four  dogs  galloped  along  in  a 
bunch  ;  then  one  of  the  greyhounds,  watching  his  chance, 
pinned  the  beast  cleverly  by  the  hock  and  threw  him  com- 
pletely over.  The  others  jumped  on  it  in  an  instant ;  but 
rising  by  main  strength  the  wolf  shook  himself  free,  catch- 
ing one  dog  by  the  ear  and  tearing  it  half  off.  Then  he 
sat  down  on  his  haunches  and  the  greyhounds  ranged 
themselves  around  him  some  twenty  yards  off,  forming  a 
ring  which  forbade  his  retreat,  though  they  themselves  did 


Wolves  and  Wolf -Hounds.         407 

not  dare  touch  him.  However  the  end  was  at  hand.  In 
another  moment  Old  Abe  and  General  Grant  came  run- 
ning up  at  headlong  speed  and  smashed  into  the  wolf  like 
a  couple  of  battering-rams.  He  rose  on  his  hind-legs  like 
a  wrestler  as  they  came  at  him,  the  greyhounds  also  rising 
and  bouncing  up  and  down  like  rubber  balls.  I  could  just 
see  the  wolf  and  the  first  big  dog  locked  together,  as  the 
second  one  made  good  his  throat-hold.  In  another  mo- 
ment over  all  three  tumbled,  while  the  greyhounds  and  one 
or  two  of  the  track-hounds  jumped  in  to  take  part  in  the 
killing.  The  big  dogs  more  than  occupied  the  wolfs 
attention  and  took  all  the  punishing,  while  in  a  trice  one 
of  the  greyhounds,  having  seized  him  by  the  hind-leg, 
stretched  him  out,  and  the  others  were  biting  his  un- 
defended belly.  The  snarling  and  yelling  of  the  worry 
made  a  noise  so  fiendish  that  it  was  fairly  bloodcurdling ; 
then  it  gradually  died  down,  and  the  second  wolf  lay 
limp  on  the  plain,  killed  by  the  dogs  unassisted.  This 
wolf  was  rather  heavier  and  decidedly  taller  than  either 
of  the  big  dogs,  with  more  sinewy  feet  and  longer  fangs. 
I  have  several  times  seen  wolves  run  down  and  stopped 
by  greyhounds  after  a  break-neck  gallop  and  a  wildly 
exciting  finish,  but  this  was  the  only  occasion  on  which  I 
ever  saw  the  dogs  kill  a  big,  full-grown  he-wolf  unaided. 
Nevertheless  various  friends  of  mine  own  packs  that  have 
performed  the  feat  again  and  again.  One  pack,  formerly 
kept  at  Fort  Benton,  until  wolves  in  that  neighborhood 
became  scarce,  had  nearly  seventy-five  to  its  credit,  most 
of  them  killed  without  any  assistance  from  the  hunter ; 
killed  moreover  by  the  greyhounds  alone,  there  being  no 


408  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

other  dogs  with  the  pack.  These  greyhounds  were 
trained  to  the  throat-hold,  and  did  their  own  killing  in 
fine  style  ;  usually  six  or  eight  were  slipped  together. 
General  Miles  informs  me  that  he  once  had  great  fun  in 
the  Indian  Territory  hunting  wolves  with  a  pack  of  grey- 
hounds. They  had  with  the  pack  a  large  stub-tailed  mon- 
grel, of  doubtful  ancestry  but  most  undoubted  fighting 
capacity.  When  the  wolf  was  started  the  greyhounds 
were  sure  to  overtake  it  in  a  mile  or  two  ;  they  would 
then  bring  it  to  a  halt  and  stand  around  it  in  a  ring  until 
the  fighting  dog  came  up.  The  latter  promptly  tumbled 
on  the  wolf,  grabbing  him  anywhere,  and  often  getting  a 
terrific  wound  himself  at  the  same  time.  As  soon  as 
he  had  seized  the  wolf  and  was  rolling  over  with  him  in 
the  grapple  the  other  dogs  joined  in  the  fray  and  dis- 
patched the  quarry  without  much  danger  to  themselves. 

During  the  last  decade  many  ranchmen  in  Colorado, 
Wyoming,  and  Montana,  have  developed  packs  of  grey- 
hounds able  to  kill  a  wolf  unassisted.  Greyhounds  trained 
for  this  purpose  always  seize  by  the  throat ;  and  the  light 
dogs  used  for  coursing  jack-rabbits  are  not  of  much  service, 
smooth  or  rough-haired  greyhounds  and  deer-hounds 
standing  over  thirty  inches  at  the  shoulder  and  weighing 
over  ninety  pounds  being  the  only  ones  that,  together  with 
speed,  courage,  and  endurance,  possess  the  requisite  power. 

One  of  the  most  famous  packs  in  the  West  was  that  of 
the  Sun  River  Hound  Club,  in  Montana,  started  by  the 
stockmen  of  Sun  River  to  get  rid  of  the  curse  of  wolves 
which  infested  the  neighborhood  and  worked  very  serious 
damage  to  the  herds  and  flocks.  The  pack  was  composed 


IVofoes  and  Wolf-Hounds.         409 

of  both  greyhounds  and  deer-hounds,  the  best  being  from 
the  kennels  of  Colonel  Williams  and  of  Mr.  Van  Hummel, 
of  Denver ;  they  were  handled  by  an  old  plainsman  and 
veteran  wolf-hunter  named  Porter.  In  the  season  oF'86 
the  astonishing  number  of  146  wolves  were  killed  with 
these  dogs.  Ordinarily,  as  soon  as  the  dogs  seized  a  wolf, 
and  threw  or  held  it,  Porter  rushed  in  and  stabbed  it  with 
his  hunting-knife ;  one  day,  when  out  with  six  hounds,  he 
thus  killed  no  less  than  twelve  out  of  the  fifteen  wolves 
started,  though  one  of  the  greyhounds  was  killed,  and  all 
the  others  were  cut  and  exhausted.  But  often  the  wolves 
were  killed  without  his  aid.  The  first  time  the  two  biggest 
hounds — deer-hounds  or  wire-haired  greyhounds — were 
tried,  when  they  had  been  at  the  ranch  only  three  days, 
they  performed  such  a  feat.  A  large  wolf  had  killed  and 
partially  eaten  a  sheep  in  a  corral  close  to  the  ranch  house, 
and  Porter  started  on  the  trail,  and  followed  him  at  a  jog- 
trot nearly  ten  miles  before  the  hounds  sighted  him. 
Running  but  a  few  rods,  he  turned  viciously  to  bay,  and 
the  two  great  greyhounds  struck  him  like  stones  hurled 
from  a  catapult,  throwing  him  as  they  fastened  on  his 
throat ;  they  held  him  down  and  strangled  him  before  he 
could  rise,  two  other  hounds  getting  up  just  in  time  to 
help  at  the  end  of  the  worry. 

Ordinarily,  however,  no  two  greyhounds  or  deer-hounds 
are  a  match  for  a  gray  wolf,  but  I  have  known  of  several 
instances  in  Colorado,  Wyoming,  and  Montana,  in  which 
three  strong  veterans  have  killed  one.  The  feat  can  only 
be  performed  by  big  dogs  of  the  highest  courage,  who  all 
act  together,  rush  in  at  top  speed,  and  seize  by  the 


410  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

throat ;  for  the  strength  of  the  quarry  is  such  that  other- 
wise he  will  shake  off  the  dogs,  and  then  speedily  kill  them 
by  rabid  snaps  with  his  terribly  armed  jaws.  Where 
possible,  half  a  dozen  dogs  should  be  slipped  at  once,  to 
minimize  the  risk  of  injury  to  the  pack  ;  unless  this  is 
done,  and  unless  the  hunter  helps  the  dogs  in  the  worry, 
accidents  will  be  frequent,  and  an  occasional  wolf  will 
be  found  able  to  beat  off,  maiming  or  killing,  a  lesser 
number  of  assailants.  Some  hunters  prefer  the  smooth 
greyhound,  because  of  its  great  speed,  and  others  the 
wire-coated  animal,  the  rough  deer-hound,  because  of  its 
superior  strength ;  both,  if  of  the  right  kind,  are  dauntless 
fighters. 

Colonel  Williams'  greyhounds  have  performed  many 
notable  feats  in  wolf-hunting.  He  spent  the  winter  of 
1875  in  the  Black  Hills,  which  at  that  time  did  not  contain 
a  single  settler,  and  fairly  swarmed  with  game.  Wolves 
were  especially  numerous  and  very  bold  and  fierce,  so  that 
the  dogs  of  the  party  were  continually  in  jeopardy  of  their 
lives.  On  the  other  hand  they  took  an  ample  vengeance, 
for  many  wolves  were  caught  by  the  pack.  Whenever 
possible,  the  horsemen  kept  close  enough  to  take  an 
immediate  hand  in  the  fight,  if  the  quarry  was  a  full-grown 
wolf,  and  thus  save  the  dogs  from  the  terrible  punishment 
they  were  otherwise  certain  to  receive.  The  dogs  invari- 
ably throttled,  rushing  straight  at  the  throat,  but  the 
wounds  they  themselves  received  were  generally  in  the 
flank  or  belly ;  in  several  instances  these  wounds  resulted 
fatally.  Once  or  twice  a  wolf  was  caught,  and  held  by 
two  greyhounds  until  the  horsemen  came  up  ;  but  it  took 


Wolves  and  Wolf -Hounds.         41 1 

at  least  five  dogs  to  overcome  and  slay  unaided  a  big 
timber  wolf.  Several  times  the  feat  was  performed  by  a 
party  of  five,  consisting  of  two  greyhounds,  one  rough- 
coated  deer-hound,  and  two  cross-bloods ;  and  once  by  a 
litter  of  seven  young  greyhounds,  not  yet  come  to  their 
full  strength. 

Once  or  twice  the  so-called  Russian  wolf-hounds  or 
silky  coated  greyhounds,  the  "  borzois,"  have  been  imported 
and  tried  in  wolf-hunting  on  the  western  plains ;  but 
hitherto  they  have  not  shown  themselves  equal,  at  either 
running  or  fighting,  to  the  big  American-bred  greyhounds  of 
the  type  produced  by  Colonel  Williams  and  certain  others 
of  our  best  western  breeders.  Indeed  I  have  never  known 
any  foreign  greyhounds,  whether  Scotch,  English,  or  from 
continental  Europe,  to  perform  such  feats  of  courage, 
endurance,  and  strength,  in  chasing  and  killing  dangerous 
game,  as  the  homebred  greyhounds  of  Colonel  Williams. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

IN     COWBOY      LAND. 

OUT  on  the  frontier,  and  generally  among  those 
who  spend  their  lives  in,  or  on  the  borders  of, 
the  wilderness,  life  is  reduced  to  its  elemental 
conditions.  The  passions  and  emotions  of  these  grim 
hunters  of  the  mountains,  and  wild  rough-riders  of  the 
plains,  are  simpler  and  stronger  than  those  of  people 
dwelling  in  more  complicated  states  of  society.  As  soon 
as  the  communities  become  settled  and  begin  to  grow  with 
any  rapidity,  the  American  instinct  for  law  asserts  itself ; 
but  in  the  earlier  stages  each  individual  is  obliged  to  be  a 
law  to  himself  and  to  guard  his  rights  with  a  strong  hand. 
Of  course  the  transition  periods  are  full  of  incongruities. 
Men  have  not  yet  adjusted  their  relations  to  morality  and 
law  with  any  niceness.  They  hold  strongly  by  certain 
rude  virtues,  and  on  the  other  hand  they  quite  fail  to 
recognize  even  as  shortcomings  not  a  few  traits  that  obtain 
scant  mercy  in  older  communities.  Many  of  the  desper- 
adoes, the  man-killers,  and  road-agents  have  good  sides  to 
their  characters.  Often  they  are  people  who,  in  certain 
stages  of  civilization,  do,  or  have  done,  good  work,  but 


412 


In  Cowboy  Land.  4J3 

who,  when  these  stages  have  passed,  find  themselves  sur- 
rounded by  conditions  which  accentuate  their  worst  qual- 
ities, and  make  their  best  qualities  useless.  The  average 
desperado,  for  instance,  has,  after  all,  much  the  same 
standard  of  morals  that  the  Norman  nobles  had  in  the 
days  of  the  battle  of  Hastings,  and,  ethically  and  morally, 
he  is  decidedly  in  advance  of  the  vikings,  who  were  the 
ancestors  of  these  same  nobles — and  to  whom,  by  the  way, 
he  himself  could  doubtless  trace  a  portion  of  his  blood. 
If  the  transition  from  the  wild  lawlessness  of  life  in  the 
wilderness  or  on  the  border  to  a  higher  civilization  were 
stretched  out  over  a  term  of  centuries,  he  and  his  descend- 
ants would  doubtless  accommodate  themselves  by  degrees 
to  the  changing  circumstances.  But  unfortunately  in  the 
far  West  the  transition  takes  place  with  marvellous  abrupt- 
ness, and  at  an  altogether  unheard-of  speed,  and  many  a 
man's  nature  is  unable  to  change  with  sufficient  rapidity  to 
allow  him  to  harmonize  with  his  environment.  In  conse- 
quence, unless  he  leaves  for  still  wilder  lands,  he  ends  by 
getting  hung  instead  of  founding  a  family  which  would 
revere  his  name  as  that  of  a  very  capable,  although  not  in 
all  respects  a  conventionally  moral,  ancestor. 

Most  of  the  men  with  whom  I  was  intimately  thrown 
during  my  life  on  the  frontier  and  in  the  wilderness  were 
good  fellows,  hard-working,  brave,  resolute,  and  truthful. 
At  times,  of  course,  they  were  forced  of  necessity  to  do 
deeds  which  would  seem  startling  to  dwellers  in  cities  and 
in  old  settled  places  ;  and  though  they  waged  a  very  stern 
and  relentless  warfare  upon  evil-doers  whose  misdeeds  had 
immediate  and  tangible  bad  results,  they  showed  a  wide 


4*4  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

toleration  of  all  save  the  most  extreme  classes  of  wrong,  and 
were  not  given  to  inquiring  too  curiously  into  a  strong  man's 
past,  or  to  criticising  him  over-harshly  for  a  failure  to  dis- 
criminate in  finer  ethical  questions.  Moreover,  not  a  few 
of  the  men  with  whom  I  came  in  contact — with  some  of 
whom  my  relations  were  very  close  and  friendly — had  at 
different  times  led  rather  tough  careers.  This  fact  was 
accepted  by  them  and  by  their  companions  as  a  fact,  and 
nothing  more.  There  were  certain  offences,  such  as  rape, 
the  robbery  of  a  friend,  or  murder  under  circumstances  of 
cowardice  and  treachery,  which  were  never  forgiven  ;  but 
the  fact  that  when  the  country  was  wild  a  young  fellow 
had  gone  on  the  road — that  is,  become  a  highwayman,  or 
had  been  chief  of  a  gang  of  desperadoes,  horse-thieves, 
and  cattle-killers,  was  scarcely  held  to  weigh  against  him, 
being  treated  as  a  regrettable,  but  certainly  not  shameful, 
trait  of  youth.  He  was  regarded  by  his  neighbors  with 
the  same  kindly  tolerance  which  respectable  mediaeval 
Scotch  borderers  doubtless  extended  to  their  wilder  young 
men  who  would  persist  in  raiding  English  cattle  even  in 
time  of  peace. 

Of  course  if  these  men  were  asked  outright  as  to  their 
stories  they  would  have  refused  to  tell  them  or  else  would 
have  lied  about  them  ;  but  when  they  had  grown  to  regard 
a  man  as  a  friend  and  companion  they  would  often  recount 
various  incidents  of  their  past  lives  with  perfect  frankness, 
and  as  they  combined  in  a  very  curious  degree  both  a  de- 
cided sense  of  humor,  and  a  failure  to  appreciate  that 
there  was  anything  especially  remarkable  in  what  they 
related,  their  tales  were  always  entertaining. 


In  Cowboy  Land.  415 

Early  one  spring,  now  nearly  ten  years  ago,  I  was  out 
hunting  some  lost  horses.  They  had  strayed  from  the 
range  three  months  before,  and  we  had  in  a  roundabout  way 
heard  that  they  were  ranging  near  some  broken  country, 
where  a  man  named  Brophy  had  a  ranch,  nearly  fifty 
miles  from  my  own.  When  I  started  thither  the  weather 
was  warm,  but  the  second  day  out  it  grew  colder  and  a 
heavy  snowstorm  came  on.  Fortunately  I  was  able  to 
reach  the  ranch  all  right,  finding  there  one  of  the  sons  of 
a  Little  Beaver  ranchman,  and  a  young  cowpuncher  be- 
longing to  a  Texas  outfit,  whom  I  knew  very  well.  After 
putting  my  horse  into  the  corral  and  throwing  him  down 
some  hay  I  strode  into  the  low  hut,  made  partly  of  turf 
and  partly  of  cottonwood  logs,  and  speedily  warmed  my- 
self before  the  fire.  We  had  a  good  warm  supper,  of  bread, 
potatoes,  fried  venison,  and  tea.  My  two  companions 
grew  very  sociable  and  began  to  talk  freely  over  their 
pipes.  There  were  two  bunks  one  above  the  other.  I 
climbed  into  the  upper,  leaving  my  friends,  who  occupied 
the  lower,  sitting  together  on  a  bench  recounting  different 
incidents  in  the  careers  of  themselves  and  their  cronies 
during  the  winter  that  had  just  passed.  Soon  one  of 
them  asked  the  other  what  had  become  of  a  certain  horse, 
a  noted  cutting  pony,  which  I  had  myself  noticed  the 
preceding  fall.  The  question  aroused  the  other  to  the 
memory  of  a  wrong  which  still  rankled,  and  he  began 
(I  alter  one  or  two  of  the  proper  names)  : 

"  Why,  that  was  the  pony  that  got  stole.  I  had  been 
workin'  him  on  rough  ground  when  I  was  out  with  the 
Three  Bar  outfit  and  he  went  tender  forward,  so  I  turned 


4l6  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

him  loose  by  the  Lazy  B  ranch,  and  when  I  come  back  to 
git  him  there  was  n't  anybody  at  the  ranch  and  I  could  n't 
find  him.  The  sheep-man  who  lives  about  two  miles  west, 
under  Red  Clay  butte,  told  me  he  seen  a  fellow  in  a  wolf- 
skin coat,  ridin'  a  pinto  bronco,  with  white  eyes,  leadin' 
that  pony  of  mine  just  two  days  before  ;  and  I  hunted  round 
till  I  hit  his  trail  and  then  I  followed  to  where  I  'd  reckoned 
he  was  headin'  for — the  Short  Pine  Hills.  When  I  got  there 
a  rancher  told  me  he  had  seen  the  man  pass  on  towards 
Cedartown,  and  sure  enough  when  I  struck  Cedartown  I 
found  he  lived  there  in  a  'dobe  house,  just  outside  the 
town.  There  was  a  boom  on  the  town  and  it  looked 
pretty  slick.  There  was  two  hotels  and  I  went  into  the 
first,  and  I  says,  '  Where  's  the  justice  of  the  peace  ?  '  says 
I  to  the  bartender. 

" '  There  ain't  no  justice  of  the  peace,'  says  he,  '  the 
justice  of  the  peace  got  shot.' 

"  '  Well,  where  's  the  constable  ?'  says  I. 

«« <  Why,  it  was  him  that  shot  the  justice  of  the  peace  ! ' 
says  he  ;  '  he  's  skipped  the  country  with  a  bunch  of  horses.' 

" '  Well,  ain't  there  no  officer  of  the  law  left  in  this 
town  ? '  says  I. 

"  '  Why,  of  course,'  says  he,  '  there  's  a  probate  judge ; 
he  is  overtendin'  bar  at  the  Last  Chance  Hotel.' 

"So  I  went  over  to  the  Last  Chance  Hotel  and  I 
walked  in  there.  '  Mornin','  says  I. 

"  '  Mornin','  says  he. 

"  '  You  're  the  probate  judge  ? '  says  I. 

"  '  That  's  what  I  am,'  says  he.  '  What  do  you  want  ?' 
says  he. 


In  Cowboy  Land.  417 

" '  I  want  justice/  says  I. 

"  '  What  kind  of  justice  do  you  want  ? '  says  he.  '  What 's 
it  for?' 

"  '  It  's  for  stealin'  a  horse/  says  I. 

"  '  Then  by  God  you  '11  git  it/  says  he.  '  Who  stole 
the  horse  ?  '  says  he. 

"  '  It  is  a  man  that  lives  in  a  'dobe  house,  just  outside 
the  town  there/  says  I. 

" '  Well,  where  do  you  come  from  yourself?'  said  he. 

"  '  From  Medory/  said  I. 

"  With  that  he  lost  interest  and  settled  kind  o'  back, 
and  says  he,  '  There  wont  no  Cedartown  jury  hang  a  Cedar- 
town  man  for  stealin'  a  Medory  man's  horse/  said  he. 

"  '  Well,  what  am  I  to  do  about  my  horse  ? '  says  I. 

"  '  Do  ? '  says  he  ;  '  well,  you  know  where  the  man  lives, 
don't  you  ?  '  says  he  ;  '  then  sit  up  outside  his  house  to- 
night and  shoot  him  when  he  comes  in/  says  he,  *  and 
skip  out  with  the  horse.' 

11  'All  right/  says  I,  '  that  is  what  I  '11  do/  and  I  walked 
off. 

"  So  I  went  off  to  his  house  and  I  laid  down  behind 
some  sage-brushes  to  wait  for  him.  He  was  not  at  home, 
but  I  could  see  his  wife  movin'  about  inside  now  and  then, 
and  I  waited  and  waited,  and  it  growed  darker,  and  I 
begun  to  say  to  myself,  '  Now  here  you  are  lyin'  out  to  shoot 
this  man  when  he  comes  home  ;  and  it  's  gettin'  dark, 
and  you  don't  know  him,  and  if  you  do  shoot  the  next 
man  that  comes  into  that  house,  like  as  not  it  won't  be  the 
fellow  you  're  after  at  all,  but  some  perfectly  innocent 
man  a-comin'  there  after  the  other  man's  wife  ! ' 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

"  So  I  up  and  saddled  the  broric'  and  lit  out  for  home," 
concluded  the  narrator  with  the  air  of  one  justly  proud  of 
his  own  self-abnegating  virtue. 

The  "  town  "  where  the  judge  above-mentioned  dwelt 
was  one  of  those  squalid,  pretentiously  named  little  clusters 
of  makeshift  dwellings  which  on  the  edge  of  the  wild 
country  spring  up  with  the  rapid  growth  of  mushrooms, 
and  are  often  no  longer  lived.  In  their  earlier  stages  these 
towns  are  frequently  built  entirely  of  canvas,  and  are 
subject  to  grotesque  calamities.  When  the  territory  pur- 
chased from  the  Sioux,  in  the  Dakotas,  a  couple  of  years 
ago,  was  thrown  open  to  settlement,  there  was  a  furious 
inrush  of  men  on  horseback  and  in  wagons,  and  various 
ambitious  cities  sprang  up  overnight.  The  new  settlers 
were  all  under  the  influence  of  that  curious  craze  which 
causes  every  true  westerner  to  put  unlimited  faith  in  the 
unknown  and  untried  ;  many  had  left  all  they  had  in  a  far 
better  farming  country,  because  they  were  true  to  their 
immemorial  belief  that,  wherever  they  were,  their  luck 
would  be  better  if  they  went  somewhere  else.  They  were 
always  on  the  move,  and  headed  for  the  vague  beyond. 
As  miners  see  visions  of  all  the  famous  mines  of  history 
in  each  new  camp,  so  these  would-be  city  founders  saw 
future  St.  Pauls  and  Omahas  in  every  forlorn  group  of 
tents  pitched  by  some  muddy  stream  in  a  desert  of  gumbo 
and  sage-brush  ;  and  they  named  both  the  towns  and  the 
canvas  buildings  in  accordance  with  their  bright  hopes 
for  the  morrow,  rather  than  with  reference  to  the  mean 
facts  of  the  day.  One  of  these  towns,  which  when  twenty- 
four  hours  old  boasted  of  six  saloons,  a  "  court-house," 


In  Cowboy  Land.  419 

and  an  "  opera  house,"  was  overwhelmed  by  early  dis- 
aster. The  third  day  of  its  life  a  whirlwind  came  along 
and  took  off  the  opera  house  and  half  the  saloons  ;  and 
the  following  evening  lawless  men  nearly  finished  the 
work  of  the  elements.  The  riders  of  a  huge  trail-outfit 
from  Texas,  to  their  glad  surprise  discovered  the  town  and 
abandoned  themselves  to  a  night  of  roaring  and  lethal 
carousal.  Next  morning  the  city  authorities  were  lament- 
ing, with  oaths  of  bitter  rage,  that  "  them  hell-and-twenty 
Flying  A  cowpunchers  had  cut  the  court-house  up  into 
pants."  It  was  true.  The  cowboys  were  in  need  of  shaps, 
and  with  an  admirable  mixture  of  adventurousness,  fru- 
gality, and  ready  adaptability  to  circumstances,  had  made 
substitutes  therefor  in  the  shape  of  canvas  overalls,  cut 
from  the  roof  and  walls  of  the  shaky  temple  of  justice. 

One  of  my  valued  friends  in  the  mountains,  and  one 
of  the  best  hunters  with  whom  I  ever  travelled,  was  a  man 
who  had  a  peculiarly  light-hearted  way  of  looking  at  con- 
ventional social  obligations.  Though  in  some  ways  a  true 
backwoods  Donatello,  he  was  a  man  of  much  shrewdness 
and  of  great  courage  and  resolution.  Moreover,  he  pos- 
sessed what  only  a  few  men  do  possess,  the  capacity  to 
tell  the  truth.  He  saw  facts  as  they  were,  and  could  tell 
them  as  they  were,  and  he  never  told  an  untruth  unless 
for  very  weighty  reasons.  He  was  pre-eminently  a  phi- 
losopher, of  a  happy,  sceptical  turn  of  mind.  He  had  no 
prejudices.  He  never  looked  down,  as  so  many  hard 
characters  do,  upon  a  person  possessing  a  different  code 
of  ethics.  His  attitude  was  one  of  broad,  genial  tolerance. 
He  saw  nothing  out  of  the  way  in  the  fact  that  he  had 


420  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

himself  been  a  road-agent,  a  professional  gambler,  and  a 
desperado  at  different  stages  of  his  career.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  did  not  in  the  least  hold  it  against  any  one  that 
he  had  always  acted  within  the  law.  At  the  time  that  I 
knew  him  he  had  become  a  man  of  some  substance,  and 
naturally  a  staunch  upholder  of  the  existing  order  of 
things.  But  while  he  never  boasted  of  his  past  deeds,  he 
never  apologized  for  them,  and  evidently  would  have  been 
quite  as  incapable  of  understanding  that  they  needed  an 
apology  as  he  would  have  been  incapable  of  being  guilty 
of  mere  vulgar  boastfulness.  He  did  not  often  allude  to 
his  past  career  at  all.  When  he  did,  he  recited  its  inci- 
dents perfectly  naturally  and  simply,  as  events,  without 
any  reference  to  or  regard  for  their  ethical  significance. 
It  was  this  quality  which  made  him  at  times  a  specially 
pleasant  companion,  and  always  an  agreeable  narrator. 
The  point  of  his  story,  or  what  seemed  to  him  the  point, 
was  rarely  that  which  struck  me.  It  was  the  incidental 
sidelights  the  story  threw  upon  his  own  nature  and  the 
somewhat  lurid  surroundings  amid  which  he  had  moved. 

On  one  occasion  when  we  were  out  together  we  killed 
a  bear,  and  after  skinning  it,  took  a  bath  in  a  lake.  I 
noticed  he  had  a  scar  on  the  side  of  his  foot  and  asked  him 
how  he  got  it,  to  which  he  responded,  with  indifference  : 

"  Oh,  that  ?     Why,  a  man  shootin'  at  me  to  make  me 
dance,  that  was  all." 

I  expressed  some  curiosity  in  the  matter,  and  he 
went  on  : 

"  Well,  the  way  of  it  was  this  :  It  was  when  I  was 
keeping  a  saloon  in  New  Mexico,  and  there  was  a  man 


In  Cowboy  Land.  421 

there  by  the  name  of  Fowler,  and  there  was  a  reward  on 
him  of  three  thousand  dollars  - 

"  Put  on  him  by  the  State  ?  " 

"  No,  put  on  by  his  wife,"  said  my  friend  ;  "and  there 
was  this " 

"  Hold  on,"  I  interrupted ;  "  put  on  by  his  wife  did 
you  say  ?  " 

"Yes,  by  his  wife.  Him  and  her  had  been  keepin'  a 
faro  bank,  you  see,  and  they  quarrelled  about  it,  so  she 
just  put  a  reward  on  him,  and  so— 

"  Excuse  me,"  I  said  "  but  do  you  mean  to  say  that 
this  reward  was  put  on  publicly  ? "  to  which  my  friend 
answered,  with  an  air  of  gentlemanly  boredom  at  being 
interrupted  to  gratify  my  thirst  for  irrelevant  detail : 

"  Oh,  no,  not  publicly.  She  just  mentioned  it  to  six  or 
eight  intimate  personal  friends." 

"  Go  on,"  I  responded,  somewhat  overcome  by  this 
instance  of  the  primitive  simplicity  with  which  New 
Mexican  matrimonial  disputes  were  managed,  and  he 
continued : 

"  Well,  two  men  come  ridin'  in  to  see  me  to  borrow 
my  guns.  My  guns  was  Colt's  self-cockers.  It  was  a  new 
thing  then,  and  they  was  the  only  ones  in  town.  These 
come  to  me,  and  '  Simpson,'  says  they,  '  we  want  to 
borrow  your  guns  ;  we  are  goin'  to  kill  Fowler.' 

" '  Hold  on  for  a  moment,'  said  I,  '  I  am  willin'  to  lend 
you  them  guns,  but  I  ain't  goin'  to  know  what  you  Y  goin' 
to  do  with  them,  no  sir  ;  but  of  course  you  can  have  the 
guns. ' '  Here  my  friend's  face  lightened  pleasantly,  and 
he  continued  : 


422  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

"  Well,  you  may  easily  believe  I  felt  surprised  next 
day  when  Fowler  come  ridin'  in,  and,  says  he,  '  Simpson, 
here  's  your  guns  ! '  He  had  shot  them  two  men  !  '  Well, 
Fowler/  says  I,  '  if  I  had  known  them  men  was  after  you, 
I  'd  never  have  let  them  have  them  guns  nohow,'  says  I. 
That  was  n't  true,  for  I  did  know  it,  but  there  was  no 
cause  to  tell  him  that."  I  murmured  my  approval  of 
such  prudence,  and  Simpson  continued,  his  eyes  gradually 
brightening  with  the  light  of  agreeable  reminiscence  : 

"Well,  they  up  and  they  took  Fowler  before  the 
justice  of  the  peace.  The  justice  of  the  peace  was  a 
Turk." 

"  Now,  Simpson,  what  do  you  mean  by  that  ? "  I 
interrupted  : 

"  Well,  he  come  from  Turkey,"  said  Simpson,  and  I 
again  sank  back,  wondering  briefly  what  particular  variety 
of  Mediterranean  outcast  had  drifted  down  to  New  Mexico 
to  be  made  a  justice  of  the  peace.  Simpson  laughed  and 
continued. 

"  That  Fowler  was  a  funny  fellow.  The  Turk,  he 
committed  Fowler,  and  Fowler,  he  riz  up  and  knocked 
him  down  and  tromped  all  over  him  and  made  him  let 
him  go  !" 

"  That  was  an  appeal  to  a  higher  law,"  I  observed. 
Simpson  assented  cheerily,  and  continued  : 

"  Well,  that  Turk,  he  got  nervous  for  fear  Fowler  he 
was  goin'  to  kill  him,  and  so  he  comes  to  me  and  offers 
me  twenty-five  dollars  a  day  to  protect  him  from  Fowler  ; 
and  I  went  to  Fowler,  and  '  Fowler,'  says  I,  'that  Turk  's 
offered  me  twenty-five  dollars  a  day  to  protect  him  from 


In  Cowboy  Land.  423 

you.  Now,  I  ain't  goin'  to  get  shot  for  no  twenty-five 
dollars  a  day,  and  if  you  are  goin'  to  kill  the  Turk,  just 
say  so  and  go  and  do  it ;  but  if  you  ain't  goin'  to  kill  the 
Turk,  there  's  no  reason  why  I  should  n't  earn  that 
twenty-five  dollars  a  day ! '  and  Fowler,  says  he,  '  I  ain't 
goin'  to  touch  the  Turk ;  you  just  go  right  ahead  and 
protect  him.' '; 

So  Simpson  "  protected  "  the  Turk  from  the  imaginary 
danger  of  Fowler,  for  about  a  week,  at  twenty-five  dollars 
a  day.  Then  one  evening  he  happened  to  go  out  and 
met  Fowler,  "  and,"  said  he,  "  the  moment  I  saw  him  I 
knowed  he  felt  mean,  for  he  begun  to  shoot  at  my  feet," 
which  certainly  did  seem  to  offer  presumptive  evidence  of 
meanness.  Simpson  continued  : 

"  I  did  n't  have  no  gun,  so  I  just  had  to  stand  there 
and  take  it  until  something  distracted  his  attention,  and  I 
went  off  home  to  get  my  gun  and  kill  him,  but  I  wanted 
to  do  it  perfectly  lawful  ;  so  I  went  up  to  the  mayor  (he 
was  playin'  poker  with  one  of  the  judges),  and  says  I  to 
him,  '  Mr.  Mayor,'  says  I,  '  I  am  goin'  to  shoot  Fowler. 
And  the  mayor  he  riz  out  of  his  chair  and  he  took  me  by 
the  hand,  and  says  he,  '  Mr.  Simpson,  if  you  do  I  will 
stand  by  you  ' ;  and  the  judge,  he  says,  '  I  '11  go  on  your 
bond.'  " 

Fortified  by  this  cordial  approval  of  the  executive  and 
judicial  branches  of  the  government,  Mr.  Simpson  started 
on  his  quest.  Meanwhile,  however,  Fowler  had  cut  up 
another  prominent  citizen,  and  they  already  had  him  in 
jail.  The  friends  of  law  and  order  feeling  some  little  dis- 
trust as  to  the  permanency  of  their  own  zeal  for  righteous- 


424  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

ness,  thought  it  best  to  settle  the  matter  before  there  was 
time  for  cooling,  and  accordingly,  headed  by  Simpson, 
the  mayor,  the  judge,  the  Turk,  and  other  prominent 
citizens  of  the  town,  they  broke  into  the  jail  and  hanged 
Fowler.  The  point  in  the  hanging  which  especially 
tickled  my  friend's  fancy,  as  he  lingered  over  the  reminis- 
cence, was  one  that  was  rather  too  ghastly  to  appeal  to 
our  own  sense  of  humor.  In  the  Turk's  mind  there  still 
rankled  the  memory  of  Fowler's  very  unprofessional 
conduct  while  figuring  before  him  as  a  criminal.  Said 
Simpson,  with  a  merry  twinkle  of  the  eye :  "  Do  you  know 
that  Turk,  he  was  a  right  funny  fellow  too  after  all.  Just 
as  the  boys  were  going  to  string  up  Fowler,  says  he, 
'  Boys,  stop ;  one  moment,  gentlemen, — Mr.  Fowler, 
good-by,'  and  he  blew  a  kiss  to  him  !" 

In  the  cow-country,  and  elsewhere  on  the  wild  border- 
land between  savagery  and  civilization,  men  go  quite  as 
often  by  nicknames  as  by  those  to  which  they  are  lawfully 
entitled.  Half  the  cowboys  and  hunters  of  my  acquaint- 
ance are  known  by  names  entirely  unconnected  with  those 
they  inherited  or  received  when  they  were  christened. 
Occasionally  some  would-be  desperado  or  make-believe 
mighty  hunter  tries  to  adopt  what  he  deems  a  title  suit- 
able to  his  prowess  ;  but  such  an  effort  is  never  attempted 
in  really  wild  places,  where  it  would  be  greeted  with  huge 
derision  ;  for  all  of  these  names  that  are  genuine  are 
bestowed  by  outsiders,  with  small  regard  to  the  wishes  of 
the  person  named.  Ordinarily  the  name  refers  to  some 
easily  recognizable  accident  of  origin,  occupation,  or 
aspect ;  as  witness  the  innumerable  Dutcheys,  Frencheys, 


In  Cowboy  Land.  425 

Kentucks,  Texas  Jacks,  Bronco  Bills,  Bear  Joes,  Buck- 
skins, Red  Jims,  and  the  like.  Sometimes  it  is  apparently 
meaningless  ;  one  of  my  cowpuncher  friends  is  always 
called  "Sliver"  or  "Splinter" — why,  I  have  no  idea.  At 
other  times  some  particular  incident  may  give  rise  to  the 
title :  a  clean-looking  cowboy  formerly  in  my  employ  was 
always  known  as  "  Muddy  Bill,"  because  he  had  once  been 
bucked  off  his  horse  into  a  mud  hole. 

The  grewsome  genesis  of  one  such  name  is  given  in 
the  following  letter  which  I  have  just  received  from  an 
old  hunting-friend  in  the  Rockies,  who  took  a  kindly 
interest  in  a  frontier  cabin  which  the  Boone  and  Crockett 
Club  was  putting  up  at  the  Chicago  World's  Fair. 

"  Feb  1 6th  1893  ;  Der  Sir  :  I  see  in  the  newspapers  that  your  club 
the  Daniel  Boon  and  Davey  Crockit  you  Intend  to  erect  a  fruntier 
Cabin  at  the  world's  Far  at  Chicago  to  represent  the  erley  Pianears  of 
our  country  I  would  like  to  see  you  maik  a  success  I  have  all  my  life 
been  a  fruntiersman  and  feel  interested  in  your  undertaking  and  I  hoap 
you  wile  get  a  good  assortment  of  relicks  I  want  to  maik  one  sugges- 
tion to  you  that  is  in  regard  to  geting  a  good  man  and  a  genuine 
Mauntanner  to  take  charg  of  your  haus  at  Chicago  I  want  to  recom- 
mend a  man  for  you  to  get  it  is  Liver-eating  Johnson  that  is  the  naim 
he  is  generally  called  he  is  an  olde  mauntneer  and  large  and  fine  look- 
ing and  one  of  the  Best  Story  Tellers  in  the  country  and  Very  Polight 
genteel  to  every  one  he  meets  I  wil  tel  you  how  he  got  that  naim  Liver- 
eating  in  a  hard  Fight  with  the  Black  Feet  Indians  thay  Faught  all 
day  Johnson  and  a  few  Whites  Faught  a  large  Body  of  Indians  all  day 
after  the  fight  Johnson  cam  in  contact  with  a  wounded  Indian  and 
Johnson  was  aut  of  ammunition  and  thay  faught  it  out  with  thar  Knives 
and  Johnson  got  away  with  the  Indian  and  in  the  fight  cut  the  livver 
out  of  the  Indian  and  said  to  the  Boys  did  thay  want  any  Liver  to  eat 
that  is  the  way  he  got  the  naim  of  Liver-eating  Johnson 

"Yours  truly"  etc.,  etc. 

Frontiersmen  are  often  as  original  in  their  theories  of 
life  as  in  their  names  ;  and  the  originality  may  take  the 


426  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

form  of  wild  savagery,  of  mere  uncouthness,  or  of  an  odd 
combination  of  genuine  humor  with  simple  acceptance  of 
facts  as  they  are.  On  one  occasion  I  expressed  some 
surprise  at  learning  that  a  certain  Mrs.  P.  had  suddenly 
married,  though  her  husband  was  alive  and  in  jail  in  a 
neighboring  town  ;  and  received  for  answer  :  "  Well,  you 
see,  old  man  Pete  he  skipped  the  country,  and  left  his 
widow  behind  him,  and  so  Bob  Evans  he  up  and  married 
her ! " — which  was  evidently  felt  to  be  a  proceeding 
requiring  no  explanation  whatever. 

In  the  cow-country  there  is  nothing  more  refreshing 
than  the  light-hearted  belief  entertained  by  the  average 
man  to  the  effect  that  any  animal  which  by  main  force 
has  been  saddled  and  ridden,  or  harnessed  and  driven  a 
couple  of  times,  is  a  "  broke  horse."  My  present  foreman 
is  firmly  wedded  to  this  idea,  as  well  as  to  its  comple- 
ment, the  belief  that  any  animals  with  hoofs,  before  any 
vehicle  with  wheels,  can  be  driven  across  any  country. 
One  summer  on  reaching  the  ranch  I  was  entertained  with 
the  usual  accounts  of  the  adventures  and  misadventures 
which  had  befallen  my  own  men  and  my  neighbors  since 
I  had  been  out  last.  In  the  course  of  the  conversation 
my  foreman  remarked  :  "  We  had  a  great  time  out  here 
about  six  weeks  ago.  There  was  a  professor  from  Ann 
Arbor  came  out  with  his  wife  to  see  the  Bad  Lands,  and 
they  asked  if  we  could  rig  them  up  a  team,  and  we  said 
we  guessed  we  could,  and  Foley's  boy  and  I  did ;  but  it 
ran  away  with  him  and  broke  his  leg  !  He  was  here  for 
a  month.  I  guess  he  did  n't  mind  it  though."  Of  this  I 
was  less  certain,  forlorn  little  Medora  being  a  "busted" 


In  Cowboy  Land.  427 

cow-town,  concerning  which  I  once  heard  another  of  my 
men  remark,  in  reply  to  an  inquisitive  commercial  traveller  : 
"  How  many  people  lives  here?  Eleven — counting  the 
chickens — when  they  're  all  in  town  !  " 

My  foreman  continued  :  "  By  George,  there  was  some- 
thing that  professor  said  afterwards  that  made  me  feel 
hot.  I  sent  word  up  to  him  by  Foley's  boy  that  seein'  as 
how  it  had  come  out  we  would  n't  charge  him  nothin'  for 
the  rig ;  and  that  professor  he  answered  that  he  was  glad 
we  were  showing  him  some  sign  of  consideration,  for 
he  'd  begun  to  believe  he  'd  fallen  into  a  den  of  sharks, 
and  that  we  gave  him  a  runaway  team  a  purpose.  That 
made  me  hot,  calling  that  a  runaway  team.  Why,  there 
was  one  of  them  horses  never  could  have  run  away 
before  ;  it  had  n't  never  been  druv  but  twice  !  and  the 
other  horse  maybe  had  run  away  a  few  times,  but  there 
was  lots  of  times  he  had  rit  run  away.  I  esteemed 
that  team  full  as  liable  not  to  run  away  as  it  was  to  run 
away,"  concluded  my  foreman,  evidently  deeming  this  as 
good  a  warranty  of  gentleness  as  the  most  exacting  could 
require. 

The  definition  of  good  behavior  on  the  frontier  is  even 
more  elastic  for  a  saddle-horse  than  for  a  team.  Last 
spring  one  of  the  Three-Seven  riders,  a  magnificent  horse- 
man, was  killed  on  the  round-up  near  Belfield,  his  horse 
bucking  and  falling  on  him.  "  It  was  accounted  a  plumb 
gentle  horse  too,"  said  my  informant,  "  only  it  sometimes 
sulked  and  acted  a  little  mean  when  it  was  cinched  up 
behind."  The  unfortunate  rider  did  not  know  of  this 
failing  of  the  "plumb  gentle  horse,"  and  as  soon  as  he 


428  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

was  in  the  saddle  it  threw  itself  over  sideways  with  a  great 
bound,  and  he  fell  on  his  head,  and  never  spoke  again. 

Such  accidents  are  too  common  in  the  wild  country  to 
attract  very  much  attention  ;  the  men  accept  them  with 
grim  quiet,  as  inevitable  in  such  lives  as  theirs — lives  that 
are  harsh  and  narrow  in  their  toil  and  their  pleasure 
alike,  and  that  are  ever-bounded  by  an  iron  horizon  of 
hazard  and  hardship.  During  the  last  year  and  a  half 
three  other  men  from  the  ranches  in  my  immediate  neigh- 
borhood have  met  their  deaths  in  the  course  of  their 
work.  One,  a  trail  boss  of  the  O  X,  was  drowned  while 
swimming  his  herd  across  a  swollen  river.  Another,  one 
of  the  fancy  ropers  of  the  W  Bar,  was  killed  while  roping 
cattle  in  a  corral  ;  his  saddle  turned,  the  rope  twisted 
round  him,  he  was  pulled  off,  and  was  trampled  to  death 
by  his  own  horse. 

The  fourth  man,  a  cowpuncher  named  Hamilton,  lost 
his  life  during  the  last  week  of  October,  1891,  in  the  first 
heavy  snowstorm  of  the  season.  Yet  he  was  a  skilled 
plainsman,  on  ground  he  knew  well,  and  just  before  stray- 
ing himself,  he  successfully  instructed  two  men  who  did 
not  know  the  country  how  to  get  to  camp.  They  were 
all  three  with  the  round-up,  and  were  making  a  circle 
through  the  Bad  Lands ;  the  wagons  had  camped  on  the 
eastern  edge  of  these  Bad  Lands,  where  they  merge  into 
the  prairie,  at  the  head  of  an  old  disused  road,  which  led 
about  due  east  from  the  Little  Missouri.  It  was  a  gray, 
lowering  day,  and  as  darkness  came  on  Hamilton's  horse 
played  out,  and  he  told  his  two  companions  not  to  wait, 
as  it  had  begun  to  snow,  but  to  keep  on  towards  the 


In  Cowboy  Land.  429 

north,  skirting  some  particularly  rough  buttes,  and  as 
soon  as  they  struck  the  road  to  turn  to  the  right  and 
follow  it  out  to  the  prairie,  where  they  would  find  camp ; 
he  particularly  warned  them  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out,  so 
as  not  to  pass  over  the  dim  trail  unawares  in  the  dusk  and 
the  storm.  They  followed  his  advice,  and  reached  camp 
safely ;  and  after  they  had  left  him  nobody  ever  again 
saw  him  alive.  Evidently  he  himself,  plodding  north- 
wards, passed  over  the  road  without  seeing  it  in  the 
gathering  gloom  ;  probably  he  struck  it  at  some  point 
where  the  ground  was  bad,  and  the  dim  trail  in  conse- 
quence disappeared  entirely,  as  is  the  way  with  these 
prairie  roads — making  them  landmarks  to  be  used  with 
caution.  He  must  then  have  walked  on  and  on,  over 
rugged  hills  and  across  deep  ravines,  until  his  horse  came 
to  a  standstill  ;  he  took  off  its  saddle  and  picketed  it  to  a 
dwarfed  ash.  Its  frozen  carcass  was  found,  with  the 
saddle  near  by,  two  months  later.  He  now  evidently 
recognized  some  landmark,  and  realized  that  he  had 
passed  the  road,  and  was  far  to  the  north  of  the  round-up 
wagons  ;  but  he  was  a  resolute,  self-confident  man,  and 
he  determined  to  strike  out  for  a  line  camp,  which  he 
knew  lay  about  due  east  of  him,  two  or  three  miles  out 
on  the  prairie,  on  one  of  the  head  branches  of  Knife 
River.  Night  must  have  fallen  by  this  time,  and  he  missed 
the  camp,  probably  passing  it  within  less  than  a  mile  ; 
but  he  did  pass  it,  and  with  it  all  hopes  of  life,  and  walked 
wearily  on  to  his  doom,  through  the  thick  darkness  and 
the  driving  snow.  At  last  his  strength  failed,  and  he  lay 
down  in  the  tall  grass  of  a  little  hollow.  Five  months 


43°  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

later,  in  the  early  spring,  the  riders  from  the  line  camp 
found  his  body,  resting  face  downwards,  with  the  forehead 
on  the  folded  arms. 

Accidents  of  less  degree  are  common.  Men  break 
their  collar-bones,  arms,  or  legs  by  falling  when  riding  at 
speed  over  dangerous  ground,  when  cutting  cattle  or  try- 
ing to  control  a  stampeded  herd,  or  by  being  thrown  or 
rolled  on  by  bucking  or  rearing  horses ;  or  their  horses, 
and  on  rare  occasions  even  they  themselves,  are  gored  by 
fighting  steers.  Death  by  storm  or  in  flood,  death  in 
striving  to  master  a  wild  and  vicious  horse,  or  in  handling 
maddened  cattle,  and  too  often  death  in  brutal  conflict 
with  one  of  his  own  fellows — any  one  of  these  is  the  not 
unnatural  end  of  the  life  of  the  dweller  on  the  plains  or 
in  the  mountains. 

But  a  few  years  ago  other  risks  had  to  be  run  from 
savage  beasts,  and  from  the  Indians.  Since  I  have  been 
ranching  on  the  Little  Missouri,  two  men  have  been  killed 
by  bears  in  the  neighborhood  of  my  range  ;  and  in  the 
early  years  of  my  residence  there,  several  men  living  or 
travelling  in  the  country  were  slain  by  small  war-parties 
of  young  braves.  All  the  old-time  trappers  and  hunters 
could  tell  stirring  tales  of  their  encounters  with  Indians. 

My  friend,  Tazewell  Woody,  was  among  the  chief 
actors  in  one  of  the  most  noteworthy  adventures  of  this 
kind.  He  was  a  very  quiet  man,  and  it  was  exceedingly 
difficult  to  get  him  to  talk  over  any  of  his  past  experiences  ; 
but  one  day,  when  he  was  in  high  good-humor  with  me 
for  having  made  three  consecutive  straight  shots  at  elk, 
he  became  quite  communicative,  and  I  was  able  to  get  him 


In  Cowboy  Land.  431 

to  tell  me  one  story  which  I  had  long  wished  to  hear  from 
his  lips,  having  already  heard  of  it  through  one  of  the 
other  survivors  of  the  incident.  When  he  found  that  I 
already  knew  a  good  deal  old  Woody  told  me  the  rest. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1875,  and  Woody  and  two 
friends  were  trapping  on  the  Yellowstone.  The  Sioux 
were  very  bad  at  the  time  and  had  killed  many  prospec- 
tors, hunters,  cowboys,  and  settlers  ;  the  whites  retaliated 
whenever  they  got  a  chance,  but,  as  always  in  Indian  war- 
fare, the  sly,  lurking,  bloodthirsty  savages  inflicted  much 
more  loss  than  they  suffered. 

The  three  men,  having  a  dozen  horses  with  them, 
were  camped  by  the  river-side  in  a  triangular  patch  of 
brush,  shaped  a  good  deal  like  a  common  flat-iron.  On 
reaching  camp  they  started  to  put  out  their  traps ;  and 
when  he  came  back  in  the  evening  Woody  informed  his 
companions  that  he  had  seen  a  great  deal  of  Indian  sign, 
and  that  he  believed  there  were  Sioux  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. His  companions  both  laughed  at  him,  assuring 
him  that  they  were  not  Sioux  at  all  but  friendly  Crows, 
and  that  they  would  be  in  camp  next  morning  ;  "  and  sure 
enough,"  said  Woody,  meditatively,  "they  were  in  camp 
next  morning."  By  dawn  one  of  the  men  went  down  the 
river  to  look  at  some  of  the  traps,  while  Woody  started 
out  to  where  the  horses  were,  the  third  man  remaining  in 
camp  to  get  breakfast.  Suddenly  two  shots  were  heard 
down  the  river,  and  in  another  moment  a  mounted  Indian 
swept  towards  the  horses.  Woody  fired,  but  missed  him, 
and  he  drove  off  five  while  Woody,  running  forward, 
succeeded  in  herding  the  other  seven  into  camp.  Hardly 


43 2  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

had  this  been  accomplished  before  the  man  who  had  gone 
down  the  river  appeared,  out  of  breath  with  his  desperate 
run,  having  been  surprised  by  several  Indians,  and  just 
succeeding  in  making  his  escape  by  dodging  from  bush 
to  bush,  threatening  his  pursuers  with  his  rifle. 

These  proved  to  be  but  the  forerunners  of  a  great 
war  party,  for  when  the  sun  rose  the  hills  around  seemed 
black  with  Sioux.  Had  they  chosen  to  dash  right  in  on 
the  camp,  running  the  risk  of  losing  several  of  their  men 
in  the  charge,  they  could  of  course  have  eaten  up  the 
three  hunters  in  a  minute  ;  but  such  a  charge  is  rarely 
practised  by  Indians,  who,  although  they  are  admirable 
in  defensive  warfare,  and  even  in  certain  kinds  of 
offensive  movements,  and  although  from  their  skill  in 
hiding  they  usually  inflict  much  more  loss  than  they  suffer 
when  matched  against  white  troops,  are  yet  very  reluctant 
to  make  any  movement  where  the  advantage  gained  must 
be  offset  by  considerable  loss  of  life.  The  three  men 
thought  they  were  surely  doomed,  but  being  veteran 
frontiersmen  and  long  inured  to  every  kind  of  hardship 
and  danger,  they  set  to  work  with  cool  resolution  to 
make  as  effective  a  defence  as  possible,  to  beat  off  their 
antagonists  if  they  might,  and  if  this  proved  impracticable, 
to  sell  their  lives  as  dearly  as  they  could.  Having 
tethered  the  horses  in  a  slight  hollow,  the  only  one  which 
offered  any  protection,  each  man  crept  out  to  a  point  of 
the  triangular  brush  patch  and  lay  down  to  await  events. 

In  a  very  short  while  the  Indians  began  closing  in  on 
them,  taking  every  advantage  of  cover,  and  then,  both 
from  their  side  of  the  river  and  from  the  opposite  bank, 


In  Cowboy  Land.  433 

opened  a  perfect  fusillade,  wasting  their  cartridges  with  a 
recklessness  which  Indians  are  apt  to  show  when  ex- 
cited. The  hunters  could  hear  the  hoarse  commands  of 
the  chiefs,  the  war-whoops,  and  the  taunts  in  broken 
English  which  some  of  the  warriors  hurled  at  them.  Very 
soon  all  of  their  horses  were  killed,  and  the  brush  was 
fairly  riddled  by  the  incessant  volleys  ;  but  the  three  men 
themselves,  lying  flat  on  the  ground  and  well  concealed, 
were  not  harmed.  The  more  daring  young  warriors  then 
began  to  creep  toward  the  hunters,  going  stealthily  from 
one  piece  of  cover  to  the  next ;  and  now  the  whites  in 
turn  opened  fire.  They  did  not  shoot  recklessly,  as  did 
their  foes,  but  coolly  and  quietly,  endeavoring  to  make 
each  shot  tell.  Said  Woody  :  "  I  only  fired  seven  times 
all  day ;  I  reckoned  on  getting  meat  every  time  I  pulled 
trigger."  They  had  an  immense  advantage  over  their 
enemies,  in  that  whereas  they  lay  still  and  entirely  con- 
cealed, the  Indians  of  course  had  to  move  from  cover  to 
cover  in  order  to  approach,  and  so  had  at  times  to  expose 
themselves.  When  the  whites  fired  at  all  they  fired  at  a 
man,  whether  moving  or  motionless,  whom  they  could 
clearly  see,  while  the  Indians  could  only  shoot  at  the 
smoke,  which  imperfectly  marked  the  position  of  their 
unseen  foes.  In  consequence  the  assailants  speedily 
found  that  it  was  a  task  of  hopeless  danger  to  try  in  such 
a  manner  to  close  in  on  three  plains  veterans,  men  of  iron 
nerve  and  skilled  in  the  use  of  the  rifle.  Yet  some  of  the 
more  daring  crept  up  very  close  to  the  patch  of  brush,  and 
one  actually  got  inside  it,  and  was  killed  among  the  bed- 
ding that  lay  by  the  smouldering  camp-fire.  The  wounded 
28 


434  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

and  such  of  the  dead  as  did  not  lie  in  too  exposed  posi- 
tions were  promptly  taken  away  by  their  comrades  ;  but 
seven  bodies  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  three  hunters.  I 
asked  Woody  how  many  he  himself  had  killed.  He  said 
he  could  only  be  sure  of  two  that  he  got ;  one  he  shot  in 
the  head  as  he  peeped  over  a  bush,  and  the  other  he  shot 
through  the  smoke  as  he  attempted  to  rush  in.  "  My, 
how  that  Indian  did  yell,"  said  Woody,  retrospectively  ; 
"he  was  no  great  of  a  Stoic."  After  two  or  three  hours 
of  this  deadly  skirmishing,  which  resulted  in  nothing  more 
serious  to  the  whites  than  in  two  of  them  being  slightly 
wounded,  the  Sioux  became  disheartened  by  the  loss  they 
were  suffering  and  withdrew,  confining  themselves  there- 
after to  a  long  range  and  harmless  fusillade.  When  it  was 
dark  the  three  men  crept  out  to  the  river  bed,  and  taking 
advantage  of  the  pitchy  night  broke  through  the  circle  of 
their  foes ;  they  managed  to  reach  the  settlements  with- 
out further  molestation,  having  lost  everything  except 
their  rifles. 

For  many  years  one  of  the  most  important  of  the 
wilderness  dwellers  was  the  West  Point  officer,  and  no 
man  has  played  a  greater  part  than  he  in  the  wild  warfare 
which  opened  the  regions  beyond  the  Mississippi  to  white 
settlement.  Since  1879,  there  has  been  but  little  regular 
Indian  fighting  in  the  North,  though  there  have  been  one 
or  two  very  tedious  and  wearisome  campaigns  waged 
against  the  Apaches  in  the  South.  Even  in  the  North, 
however,  there  have  been  occasional  uprisings  which  had 
to  be  quelled  by  the  regular  troops. 

After  my  elk  hunt  in  September,  1891,  I  came  out 
through  the  Yellowstone  Park,  as  I  have  elsewhere  re- 


In  Cowboy  Land,  435 

lated,  riding  in  company  with  a  surveyor  of  the  Burling- 
ton and  Quincy  railroad,  who  was  just  coming  in  from 
his  summer's  work.  It  was  the  first  of  October.  There 
had  been  a  heavy  snow-storm  and  the  snow  was  still  fall- 
ing. Riding  a  stout  pony  each,  and  leading  another 
packed  with  our  bedding,  etc.,  we  broke  our  way  from 
the  upper  to  the  middle  geyser  basin.  Here  we  found 
a  troop  of  the  ist  Cavalry  camped,  under  the  com- 
mand of  old  friends  of  mine,  Captain  Frank  Edwards 
and  Lieutenant  (now  Captain)  John  Pitcher.  They  gave 
us  hay  for  our  horses  and  insisted  upon  our  stopping  to 
lunch,  with  the  ready  hospitality  always  shown  by  army 
officers.  After  lunch  we  began  exchanging  stories.  My 
travelling  companion,  the  surveyor,  had  that  spring  per* 
formed  a  feat  of  note,  going  through  one  of  the  canyons 
of  the  Big  Horn  for  the  first  time.  He  went  with  an  old 
mining  inspector,  the  two  of  them  dragging  a  cottonwood 
sledge  over  the  ice.  The  walls  of  the  canyon  are  so  sheer 
and  the  water  so  rough  that  it  can  be  descended  only 
when  the  stream  is  frozen.  However,  after  six  days' labor 
and  hardship  the  descent  was  accomplished  ;  and  the 
surveyor,  in  concluding,  described  his  experience  in  going 
through  the  Crow  Reservation. 

This  turned  the  conversation  upon  Indians,  and  it  ap- 
peared that  both  of  our  hosts  had  been  actors  in  Indian 
scrapes  which  had  attracted  my  attention  at  the  time  they 
occurred,  as  they  took  place  among  tribes  that  I  knew 
and  in  a  country  which  I  had  sometime  visited,  either 
when  hunting  or  when  purchasing  horses  for  the  ranch. 
The  first,  which  occurred  to  Captain  Edwards,  happened 
late  in  1886,  at  the  time  when  the  Crow  Medicine  Chief. 


436  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

Sword-Bearer,  announced  himself  as  the  Messiah  of  the 
Indian  race,  during  one  of  the  usual  epidemics  of  ghost 
dancing.  Sword-Bearer  derived  his  name  from  always 
wearing  a  medicine  sword — that  is,  a  sabre  painted  red. 
He  claimed  to  possess  magic  power,  and,  thanks  to  the 
performance  of  many  dextrous  feats  of  juggling,  and  the 
lucky  outcome  of  certain  prophecies,  he  deeply  stirred  the 
Indians,  arousing  the  young  warriors  in  particular  to  the 
highest  pitch  of  excitement.  They  became  sullen,  began 
to  paint,  and  armed  themselves  ;  and  the  agent  and  the 
settlers  nearby  grew  so  apprehensive  that  the  troops 
were  ordered  to  go  to  the  reservation.  A  body  of  cavalry, 
including  Captain  Edwards'  troop,  was  accordingly 
marched  thither,  and  found  the  Crow  warriors,  mounted 
on  their  war  ponies  and  dressed  in  their  striking  battle- 
garb,  waiting  on  a  hill. 

The  position  of  troops  at  the  beginning  of  such  an 
affair  is  always  peculiarly  difficult.  The  settlers  round- 
about are  sure  to  clamor  bitterly  against  them,  no  matter 
what  they  do,  on  the  ground  that  they  are  not  thorough 
enough  and  are  showing  favor  to  the  savages,  while  on 
the  other  hand,  even  if  they  fight  purely  in  self-defence,  a 
large  number  of  worthy  but  weak-minded  sentimentalists 
in  the  East  are  sure  to  shriek  about  their  having  brutally 
attacked  the  Indians.  The  war  authorities  always  insist 
that  they  must  not  fire  the  first  shot  under  any  circum- 
stances, and  such  were  the  orders  at  this  time.  The 
Crows  on  the  hill-top  showed  a  sullen  and  threatening 
front,  and  the  troops  advanced  slowly  towards  them  and 
then  halted  for  a  parley.  Meanwhile  a  mass  of  black 


In  Cowboy  Land.  437 

thunder-clouds  gathering  on  the  horizon  threatened  one 
of  those  cloudbursts  of  extreme  seventy  and  suddenness 
so  characteristic  of  the  plains  country.  While  still  trying 
to  make  arrangements  for  a  parley,  a  horseman  started 
out  of  the  Crow  ranks  and  galloped  headlong  down 
towards  the  troops.  It  was  the  medicine  chief,  Sword* 
Bearer.  He  was  painted  and  in  his  battle-dress,  wearing 
his  war-bonnet  of  floating,  trailing  eagle  feathers,  while 
the  plumes  of  the  same  bird  were  braided  in  the  mane 
and  tail  of  his  fiery  little  horse.  On  he  came  at  a  gallop 
almost  up  to  the  troops  and  then  began  to  circle  around 
them,  calling  and  singing  and  throwing  his  crimson  sword 
into  the  air,  catching  it  by  the  hilt  as  it  fell.  Twice  he 
rode  completely  around  the  soldiers,  who  stood  in  uncer- 
tainty, not  knowing  what  to  make  of  his  performance, 
and  expressly  forbidden  to  shoot  at  him.  Then  paying 
no  further  heed  to  them  he  rode  back  towards  the  Crows. 
It  appears  that  he  had  told  them  that  he  would  ride 
twice  around  the  hostile  force,  and  by  his  incantations 
would  call  down  rain  from  heaven,  which  would  make  the 
hearts  of  the  white  men  like  water,  so  that  they  should 
go  back  to  their  homes.  Sure  enough,  while  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  parley  were  still  going  forward,  down  came 
the  cloudburst,  drenching  the  command  and  making  the 
ground  on  the  hills  in  front  nearly  impassable ;  and  before 
it  dried  a  courier  arrived  with  orders  to  the  troops  to  go 
back  to  camp. 

This  fulfilment  of  Sword-Bearer's  prophecy  of  course 
raised  his  reputation  to  the  zenith  and  the  young  men  of 
the  tribe  prepared  for  war,  while  the  older  chiefs,  who 


438  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

more  fully  realized  the  power  of  the  whites,  still  hung 
back.  When  the  troops  next  appeared  they  came  upon 
the  entire  Crow  force,  the  women  and  children  with  their 
tepees  being  off  to  one  side  beyond  a  little  stream  while 
almost  all  the  warriors  of  the  tribe  were  gathered  in  front. 
Sword-Bearer  started  to  repeat  his  former  ride,  to  the 
intense  irritation  of  the  soldiers.  Luckily,  however,  this 
time  some  of  his  young  men  could  not  be  restrained. 
They  too  began  to  ride  near  the  troops,  and  one  of  them 
was  unable  to  refrain  from  firing  on  Captain  Edwards' 
troop,  which  was  in  the  van.  This  gave  the  soldiers  their 
chance.  They  instantly  responded  with  a  volley,  and 
Captain  Edwards'  troop  charged.  The  fight  lasted  but  a 
minute  or  two,  for  Sword-Bearer  was  struck  by  a  bullet 
and  fell,  and  as  he  had  boasted  himself  invulnerable,  and 
promised  that  his  warriors  should  be  invulnerable  also 
if  they  would  follow  him,  the  hearts  of  the  latter  became 
as  water  and  they  broke  in  every  direction.  One  of  the 
amusing,  though  irritating,  incidents  of  the  affair  was  to 
see  the  plumed  and  painted  warriors  race  headlong  for 
the  camp,  plunge  into  the  stream,  wash  off  their  war  paint, 
and  remove  their  feathers  ;  in  another  moment  they  would 
be  stolidly  sitting  on  the  ground,  with  their  blankets  over 
their  shoulders,  rising  to  greet  the  pursuing  cavalry  with 
unmoved  composure  and  calm  assurances  that  they  had 
always  been  friendly  and  had  much  disapproved  the  con- 
duct of  the  young  bucks  who  had  just  been  scattered  on 
the  field  outside.  It  was  much  to  the  credit  of  the  dis- 
cipline of  the  army  that  no  bloodshed  followed  the  fight 
proper.  The  loss  to  the  whites  was  small. 


In  Cowboy  Land.  439 

The  other  incident,  related  by  Lieutenant  Pitcher, 
took  place  in  1890,  near  Tongue  River,  in  northern 
Wyoming.  The  command  with  which  he  was  serving 
was  camped  near  the  Cheyenne  Reservation.  One  day 
two  young  Cheyenne  bucks,  met  one  of  the  government 
herders,  and  promptly  killed  him — in  a  sudden  fit,  half  of 
ungovernable  blood  lust,  half  of  mere  ferocious  light- 
heartedness.  They  then  dragged  his  body  into  the  brush 
and  left  it.  The  disappearance  of  the  herder  of  course  at- 
tracted attention,  and  a  search  was  organized  by  the  cav- 
alry. At  first  the  Indians  stoutly  denied  all  knowledge  of 
the  missing  man  ;  but  when  it  became  evident  that  the 
search  party  would  shortly  find  him,  two  or  three  of  the 
chiefs  joined  them,  and  piloted  them  to  where  the  body 
lay ;  and  acknowledged  that  he  had  been  murdered  by 
two  of  their  band,  though  at  first  they  refused  to  give 
their  names.  The  commander  of  the  post  demanded 
that  the  murderers  be  given  up.  The  chiefs  said  that 
they  were  very  sorry,  that  this  could  not  be  done,  but 
that  they  were  willing  to  pay  over  any  reasonable  number 
of  ponies  to  make  amends  for  the  death.  This  offer  was 
of  course  promptly  refused,  and  the  commander  notified 
them  that  if  they  did  not  surrender  the  murderers  by  a 
certain  time  he  would  hold  the  whole  tribe  responsible 
and  would  promptly  move  out  and  attack  them.  Upon 
this  the  chiefs,  after  holding  full  counsel  with  the  tribe,  told 
the  commander  that  they  had  no  power  to  surrender  the 
murderers,  but  that  the  latter  had  said  that  sooner  than 
see  their  tribe  involved  in  a  hopeless  struggle  they  would 
of  their  own  accord  come  in  and  meet  the  troops  any- 


440  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

where  the  latter  chose  to  appoint,  and  die  fighting.  To 
this  the  commander  responded  :  "All  right ;  let  them  come 
into  the  agency  in  half  an  hour."  The  chiefs  acquiesced, 
and  withdrew. 

Immediately  the  Indians  sent  mounted  messengers  at 
speed  from  camp  to  camp,  summoning  all  their  people  to 
witness  the  act  of  fierce  self-doom ;  and  soon  the  entire 
tribe  of  Cheyennes,  many  of  them  having  their  faces 
blackened  in  token  of  mourning,  moved  down  and  took  up 
a  position  on  the  hill-side  close  to  the  agency.  At  the 
appointed  hour  both  young  men  appeared  in  their  hand- 
some war  dress,  galloped  to  the  top  of  the  hill  near  the 
encampment,  and  deliberately  opened  fire  on  the  troops. 
The  latter  merely  fired  a  few  shots  to  keep  the  young 
desperadoes  off,  while  Lieutenant  Pitcher  and  a  score  of 
cavalrymen  left  camp  to  make  a  circle  and  drive  them  in  ; 
they  did  not  wish  to  hurt  them,  but  to  capture  and  give 
them  over  to  the  Indians,  so  that  the  latter  might  be 
forced  themselves  to  inflict  the  punishment.  However, 
they  were  unable  to  accomplish  their  purpose  ;  one  of  the 
young  braves  went  straight  at  them,  firing  his  rifle  and 
wounding  the  horse  of  one  of  the  cavalrymen,  so  that, 
simply  in  self-defence,  the  latter  had  to  fire  a  volley, 
which  laid  low  the  assailant  ;  the  other,  his  horse  having 
been  shot,  was  killed  in  the  brush,  fighting  to  the  last. 
All  the  while,  from  the  moment  the  two  doomed  braves 
appeared  until  they  fell,  the  Cheyennes  on  the  hill-side 
had  been  steadily  singing  the  death  chant.  When  the 
young  men  had  both  died,  and  had  thus  averted  the  fate 
which  their  misdeeds  would  else  have  brought  upon  the 


In  Cowboy  Land.  441 

tribe,  the  warriors  took  their  bodies  and  bore  them  away 
for  burial  honors,  the  soldiers  looking  on  in  silence. 
Where  the  slain  men  were  buried  the  whites  never  knew  ; 
but  all  that  night  they  listened  to  the  dismal  wailing  of 
the  dirges  with  which  the  tribesmen  celebrated  their 
gloomy  funeral  rites. 

Frontiersmen  are  not,  as  a  rule,  apt  to  be  very  super- 
stitious. They  lead  lives  too  hard  and  practical,  and  have 
too  little  imagination  in  things  spiritual  arid  supernatural. 
I  have  heard  but  few  ghost  stories  while  living  on  the 
frontier,  and  these  few  were  of  a  perfectly  commonplace 
and  conventional  type. 

But  I  once  listened  to  a  goblin  story  which  rather 
impressed  me.  It  was  told  by  a  grisled,  weather-beaten 
old  mountain  hunter,  named  Bauman,  who  was  born  and 
had  passed  all  his  life  on  the  frontier.  He  must  have 
believed  what  he  said,  for  he  could  hardly  repress  a 
shudder  at  certain  points  of  the  tale  ;  but  he  was  of 
German  ancestry,  and  in  childhood  had  doubtless  been 
saturated  with  all  kinds  of  ghost  and  goblin  lore,  so  that 
many  fearsome  superstitions  were  latent  in  his  mind  ; 
besides,  he  knew  well  the  stories  told  by  the  Indian  medi- 
cine men  in  their  winter  camps,  of  the  snow-walkers,  and 
the  spectres,  and  the  formless  evil  beings  that  haunt  the 
forest  depths,  and  dog  and  waylay  the  lonely  wanderer 
who  after  nightfall  passes  through  the  regions  where  they 
lurk  ;  and  it  may  be  that  when  overcome  by  the  horror  of 
the  fate  that  befell  his  friend,  and  when  oppressed  by  the 
awful  dread  of  the  unknown,  he  grew  to  attribute,  both  at 
the  time  and  still  more  in  remembrance,  weird  and  elfin 


442  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

traits  to  what  was  merely  some  abnormally  wicked  and 
cunning  wild  beast  ;  but  whether  this  was  so  or  not,  no 
man  can  say. 

When  the  event  occurred  Bauman  was  still  a  young 
man,  and  was  trapping  with  a  partner  among  the  moun- 
tains dividing  the  forks  of  the  Salmon  from  the  head  of 
Wisdom  River.  Not  having  had  much  luck,  he  and  his 
partner  determined  to  go  up  into  a  particularly  wild  and 
lonely  pass  through  which  ran  a  small  stream  said  to  con- 
tain many  beaver.  The  pass  had  an  evil  reputation  be- 
cause the  year  before  a  solitary  hunter  who  had  wandered 
into  it  was  there  slain,  seemingly  by  a  wild  beast,  the  half- 
eaten  remains  being  afterwards  found  by  some  mining  pros- 
pectors who  had  passed  his  camp  only  the  night  before. 

The  memory  of  this  event,  however,  weighed  very 
lightly  with  the  two  trappers,  who  were  as  adventurous 
and  hardy  as  others  of  their  kind.  They  took  their  two 
lean  mountain  ponies  to  the  foot  of  the  pass,  where  they 
left  them  in  an  open  beaver  meadow,  the  rocky  timber- 
clad  ground  being  from  thence  onwards  impracticable  for 
horses.  They  then  struck  out  on  foot  through  the  vast, 
gloomy  forest,  and  in  about  four  hours  reached  a  little 
open  glade  where  they  concluded  to  camp,  as  signs  of 
game  were  plenty. 

There  was  still  an  hour  or  two  of  daylight  left,  and 
after  building  a  brush  lean-to  and  throwing  down  and 
opening  their  packs,  they  started  up  stream.  The  country 
was  very  dense  and  hard  to  travel  through,  as  there  was 
much  down  timber,  although  here  and  there  the  sombre 
woodland  was  broken  by  small  glades  of  mountain  grass. 


In  Cowboy  Land.  443 

At  dusk  they  again  reached  camp.  The  glade  in  which 
it  was  pitched  was  not  many  yards  wide,  the  tall,  close-set 
pines  and  firs  rising  round  it  like  a  wall.  On  one  side  was 
a  little  stream,  beyond  which  rose  the  steep  mountain- 
slopes,  covered  with  the  unbroken  growth  of  the  evergreen 
forest. 

They  were  surprised  to  find  that  during  their  short 
absence  something,  apparently  a  bear,  had  visited  camp, 
and  had  rummaged  about  among  their  things,  scattering 
the  contents  of  their  packs,  and  in  sheer  wantonness 
destroying  their  lean-to.  The  footprints  of  the  beast  were 
quite  plain,  but  at  first  they  paid  no  particular  heed  to 
them,  busying  themselves  with  rebuilding  the  lean-to,  lay- 
ing out  their  beds  and  stores,  and  lighting  the  fire. 

While  Bauman  was  making  ready  supper,  it  being 
already  dark,  his  companion  began  to  examine  the  tracks 
more  closely,  and  soon  took  a  brand  from  the  fire  to  fol- 
low them  up,  where  the  intruder  had  walked  along  a  game 
trail  after  leaving  the  camp.  When  the  brand  flickered 
out,  he  returned  and  took  another,  repeating  his  inspec- 
tion of  the  footprints  very  closely.  Coming  back  to  the 
fire,  he  stood  by  it  a  minute  or  two,  peering  out  into  the 
darkness,  and  suddenly  remarked  :  "  Bauman,  that  bear  has 
been  walking  on  two  legs."  Bauman  laughed  at  this,  but 
his  partner  insisted  that  he  was  right,  and  upon  again 
examining  the  tracks  with  a  torch,  they  certainly  did  seem 
to  be  made  by  but  two  paws,  or  feet.  However,  it  was 
too  dark  to  make  sure.  After  discussing  whether  the 
footprints  could  possibly  be  those  of  a  human  being,  and 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that  they  could  not  be,  the  two 


444  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

men  rolled  up  in  their  blankets,  and  went  to  sleep  under 
the  lean-to. 

At  midnight  Bauman  was  awakened  by  some  noise, 
and  sat  up  in  his  blankets.  As  he  did  so  his  nostrils  were 
struck  by  a  strong,  wild-beast  odor,  and  he  caught  the 
loom  of  a  great  body  in  the  darkness  at  the  mouth  of  the 
lean-to.  Grasping  his  rifle,  he  fired  at  the  vague,  threat- 
ening shadow,  but  must  have  missed,  for  immediately 
afterwards  he  heard  the  smashing  of  the  underwood  as  the 
thing,  whatever  it  was,  rushed  off  into  the  impenetrable 
blackness  of  the  forest  and  the  night. 

After  this  the  two  men  slept  but  little,  sitting  up  by 
the  rekindled  fire,  but  they  heard  nothing  more.  In  the 
morning  they  started  out  to  look  at  the  few  traps  they  had 
set  the  previous  evening  and  to  put  out  new  ones.  By  an 
unspoken  agreement  they  kept  together  all  day,  and 
returned  to  camp  towards  evening. 

On  nearing  it  they  saw,  hardly  to  their  astonishment, 
that  the  lean-to  had  been  again  torn  down.  The  visitor 
of  the  preceding  day  had  returned,  and  in  wanton  malice 
had  tossed  about  their  camp  kit  and  bedding,  and  destroyed 
the  shanty.  The  ground  was  marked  up  by  its  tracks,  and 
on  leaving  the  camp  it  had  gone  along  the  soft  earth  by 
the  brook,  where  the  footprints  were  as  plain  as  if  on  snow, 
and,  after  a  careful  scrutiny  of  the  trail,  it  certainly  did 
seem  as  if,  whatever  the  thing  was,  it  had  walked  off  on 
but  two  legs. 

The  men,  thoroughly  uneasy,  gathered  a  great  heap  of 
dead  logs,  and  kept  up  a  roaring  fire  throughout  the  night, 
one  or  the  other  sitting  on  guard  most  of  the  time.  About 


In  Cowboy  Land.  445 

midnight  the  thing  came  down  through  the  forest  opposite, 
across  the  brook,  and  stayed  there  on  the  hill-side  for 
nearly  an  hour.  They  could  hear  the  branches  crackle  as 
it  moved  about,  and  several  times  it  uttered  a  harsh, 
grating,  long-drawn  moan,  a  peculiarly  sinister  sound.  Yet 
it  did  not  venture  near  the  fire. 

In  the  morning  the  two  trappers,  after  discussing  the 
strange  events  of  the  last  thirty-six  hours,  decided  that 
they  would  shouldei  their  packs  and  leave  the  valley  that 
afternoon.  They  were  the  more  ready  to  do  this  because 
in  spite  of  seeing  a  good  deal  of  game  sign  they  had 
caught  very  little  fur.  However,  it  was  necessary  first  to 
go  along  the  line  of  their  traps  and  gather  them,  and  this 
they  started  out  to  do. 

All  the  morning  they  kept  together,  picking  up  trap 
after  trap,  each  one  empty.  On  first  leaving  camp  they 
had  the  disagreeable  sensation  of  being  followed.  In  the 
dense  spruce  thickets  they  occasionally  heard  a  branch 
snap  after  they  had  passed  ;  and  now  and  then  there  were 
slight  rustling  noises  among  the  small  pines  to  one  side 
of  them. 

At  noon  they  were  back  within  a  couple  of  miles  of 
camp.  In  the  high,  bright  sunlight  their  fears  seemed 
absurd  to  the  two  armed  men,  accustomed  as  they  were, 
through  long  years  of  lonely  wandering  in  the  wilderness 
to  face  every  kind  of  danger  from  man,  brute,  or  element. 
There  were  still  three  beaver  traps  to  collect  from  a 
little  pond  in  a  wide  ravine  nearby.  Bauman  volunteered 
to  gather  these  and  bring  them  in,  while  his  companion 
went  ahead  to  camp  and  made  ready  the  packs. 


446  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

On  reaching  the  pond  Bauman  found  three  beaver  in 
the  traps,  one  of  which  had  been  pulled  loose  and  carried 
into  a  beaver  house.  He  took  several  hours  in  securing 
and  preparing  the  beaver,  and  when  he  started  homewards 
he  marked  with  some  uneasiness  how  low  the  sun  was  get- 
ting. As  he  hurried  towards  camp,  under  the  tall  trees, 
the  silence  and  desolation  of  the  forest  weighed  on  him. 
His  feet  made  no  sound  on  the  pine  needles,  and  the 
slanting  sun  rays,  striking  through  among  the  straight 
trunks,  made  a  gray  twilight  in  which  objects  at  a  distance 
glimmered  indistinctly.  There  was  nothing  to  break  the 
ghostly  stillness  which,  when  there  is  no  breeze,  always 
broods  over  these  sombre  primeval  forests. 

At  last  he  came  to  the  edge  of  the  little  glade  where 
the  camp  lay,  and  shouted  as  he  approached  it,  but  got  no 
answer.  The  camp  fire  had  gone  out,  though  the  thin 
blue  smoke  was  still  curling  upwards.  Near  it  lay 
the  packs,  wrapped  and  arranged.  At  first  Bauman 
could  see  nobody  ;  nor  did  he  receive  an  answer  to  his 
call.  Stepping  forward  he  again  shouted,  and  as  he  did 
so  his  eye  fell  on  the  body  of  his  friend,  stretched  beside 
the  trunk  of  a  great  fallen  spruce.  Rushing  towards  it 
the  horrified  trapper  found  that  the  body  was  still  warm, 
but  that  the  neck  was  broken,  while  there  were  four  great 
fang  marks  in  the  throat. 

The  footprints  of  the  unknown  beast-creature,  printed 
deep  in  the  soft  soil,  told  the  whole  story. 

The  unfortunate  man,  having  finished  his  packing,  had 
sat  down  on  the  spruce  log  with  his  face  to  the  fire,  and 
his  back  to  the  dense  woods,  to  wait  for  his  companion. 


In  Cowboy  Land.  447 

While  thus  waiting,  his  monstrous  assailant,  which  must 
have  been  lurking  nearby  in  the  woods,  waiting  for  a 
chance  to  catch  one  of  the  adventurers  unprepared,  came 
silently  up  from  behind,  walking  with  long,  noiseless  steps, 
and  seemingly  still  on  two  legs.  Evidently  unheard,  it 
reached  the  man,  and  broke  his  neck  by  wrenching  his 
head  back  with  its  forepaws,  while  it  buried  its  teeth  in 
his  throat.  It  had  not  eaten  the  body,  but  apparently 
had  romped  and  gambolled  round  it  in  uncouth,  ferocious 
glee,  occasionally  rolling  over  and  over  it ;  and  had  then 
fled  back  into  the  soundless  depths  of  the  woods. 

Bauman,  utterly  unnerved,  and  believing  that  the 
creature  with  which  he  had  to  deal  was  something  either 
half  human  or  half  devil,  some  great  goblin-beast,  aban- 
doned everything  but  his  rifle  and  struck  off  at  speed  down 
the  pass,  not  halting  until  he  reached  the  beaver  meadows 
where  the  hobbled  ponies  were  still  grazing.  Mounting, 
he  rode  onwards  through  the  night,  until  far  beyond  the 
reach  of  pursuit. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

HUNTING  LORE. 

IT  has  been  my  good-luck  to  kill  every  kind  of  game 
properly  belonging  to  the  United  States  :  though  one 
beast  which  I  never  had  a  chance  to  slay,  the  jaguar, 
from  the  torrid  South,  sometimes  comes  just  across  the 
Rio  Grande  ;  nor  have  I  ever  hunted  the  musk-ox  and 
polar  bear  in  the  boreal  wastes  where  they  dwell,  sur- 
rounded by  the  frozen  desolation  of  the  uttermost  North. 
I  have  never  sought  to  make  large  bags,  for  a  hunter 
should  not  be  a  game  butcher.  It  is  always  lawful  to  kill 
dangerous  or  noxious  animals,  like  the  bear,  cougar,  and 
wolf ;  but  other  game  should  only  be  shot  when  there  is 
need  of  the  meat,  or  for  the  sake  of  an  unusually  fine 
trophy.  Killing  a  reasonable  number  of  bulls,  bucks,  or 
rams  does  no  harm  whatever  to  the  species  ;  to  slay  half 
the  males  of  any  kind  of  game  would  not  stop  the  natural 
increase,  and  they  yield  the  best  sport,  and  are  the  legiti- 
mate objects  of  the  chase.  Cows,  does,  and  ewes,  on  the 
contrary,  should  only  be  killed  (unless  barren)  in  case  of 
necessity  ;  during  my  last  five  years'  hunting  I  have  killed 
but  five — one  by  a  mischance,  and  the  other  four  for  the 

table. 

448 


Hunting  Lore.  449 

From  its  very  nature,  the  life  of  the  hunter  is  in  most 
places  evanescent ;  and  when  it  has  vanished  there  can 
be  no  real  substitute  in  old  settled  countries.  Shooting 
in  a  private  game  preserve  is  but  a  dismal  parody ;  the 
manliest  and  healthiest  features  of  the  sport  are  lost  with 
the  change  of  conditions.  We  need,  in  the  interest  of  the 
community  at  large,  a  rigid  system  of  game  laws  rigidly 
enforced,  and  it  is  not  only  admissible,  but  one  may 
almost  say  necessary,  to  establish,  under  the  control  of 
the  State,  great  national  forest  reserves,  which  shall  also 
be  breeding  grounds  and  nurseries  for  wild  game ;  but  I 
should  much  regret  to  see  grow  up  in  this  country  a  sys- 
tem of  large  private  game  preserves,  kept  for  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  very  rich.  One  of  the  chief  attractions  of 
the  life  of  the  wilderness  is  its  rugged  and  stalwart  democ- 
racy ;  there  every  man  stands  for  what  he  actually  is,  and 
can  show  himself  to  be. 

There  are,  in  different  parts  of  our  country,  chances 
to  try  so  many  various  kinds  of  hunting,  with  rifle  or  with 
horse  and  hound,  that  it  is  nearly  impossible  for  one  man 
to  have  experience  of  them  all.  There  are  many  hunts  I 
long  hoped  to  take,  but  never  did  and  never  shall ;  they 
must  be  left  for  men  with  more  time,  or  for  those  whose 
homes  are  nearer  to  the  hunting  grounds.  I  have  never 
seen  a  grisly  roped  by  the  riders  of  the  plains,  nor  a  black 
bear  killed  with  the  knife  and  hounds  in  the  southern 
canebrakes ;  though  at  one  time  I  had  for  many  years  a 
standing  invitation  to  witness  this  last  feat  on  a  plantation 
in  Arkansas.  The  friend  who  gave  it,  an  old  backwoods 

planter,  at  one  time  lost  almost  all  his  hogs  by  the  nu- 
29 


45°  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

merous  bears  who  infested  his  neighborhood.  He  took 
a  grimly  humorous  revenge  each  fall  by  doing  his  winter 
killing  among  the  bears  instead  of  among  the  hogs  they 
had  slain  ;  for  as  the  cold  weather  approached  he  regu- 
larly proceeded  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  bear-bacon,  scouring 
the  canebrakes  in  a  series  of  systematic  hunts,  bringing 
the  quarry  to  bay  with  the  help  of  a  big  pack  of  hard- 
fighting  mongrels,  and  then  killing  it  with  his  long, 
broad-bladed  bowie. 

Again,  I  should  like  to  make  a  trial  at  killing  peccaries 
with  the  spear,  whether  on  foot  or  on  horseback,  and  with 
or  without  dogs.  I  should  like  much  to  repeat  the  expe- 
rience of  a  friend  who  cruised  northward  through  Bering 
Sea,  shooting  walrus  and  polar  bear;  and  that  of  two 
other  friends  who  travelled  with  dog-sleds  to  the  Barren 
Grounds,  in  chase  of  the  caribou,  and  of  that  last  survivor 
of  the  Ice  Age,  the  strange  musk-ox.  Once  in  a  while  it 
must  be  good  sport  to  shoot  alligators  by  torchlight  in 
the  everglades  of  Florida  or  the  bayous  of  Louisiana. 

If  the  big-game  hunter,  the  lover  of  the  rifle,  has  a 
taste  for  kindred  field  sports  with  rod  and  shotgun,  many 
are  his  chances  for  pleasure,  though  perhaps  of  a  less  in- 
tense kind.  The  wild  turkey  really  deserves  a  place  beside 
the  deer ;  to  kill  a  wary  old  gobbler  with  the  small-bore 
rifle,  by  fair  still-hunting,  is  a  triumph  for  the  best  sports- 
man. Swans,  geese,  and  sandhill  cranes  likewise  may 
sometimes  be  killed  with  the  rifle ;  but  more  often  all 
three,  save  perhaps  the  swan,  must  be  shot  over  decoys. 
Then  there  is  prairie-chicken  shooting  on  the  fertile  grain 
prairies  of  the  middle  West,  from  Minnesota  to  Texas  ; 


Hunting  Lore.  45 l 

and  killing  canvas-backs  from  behind  blinds,  with  the  help 
of  that  fearless  swimmer,  the  Chesapeake  Bay  dog.  In 
Californian  mountains  and  valleys  live  the  beautiful 
plumed  quails,  and  who  does  not  know  their  cousin  bob- 
white,  the  bird  of  the  farm,  with  his  cheery  voice  and 
friendly  ways  ?  For  pure  fun,  nothing  can  surpass  a 
night  scramble  through  the  woods  after  coon  and  possum. 

The  salmon,  whether  near  Puget  Sound  or  the  St. 
Lawrence,  is  the  royal  fish  ;  his  only  rival  is  the  giant  of  the 
warm  Gulf  waters,  the  silver-mailed  tarpon  ;  while  along 
the  Atlantic  coast  the  great  striped  bass  likewise  yields 
fine  sport  to  the  men  of  rod  and  reel.  Every  hunter  of 
the  mountains  and  the  northern  woods  knows  the  many 
kinds  of  spotted  trout ;  for  the  black  bass  he  cares  less ; 
and  least  of  all  for  the  sluggish  pickerel,  and  his  big  brother 
of  the  Great  Lakes,  the  muscallonge. 

Yet  the  sport  yielded  by  rod  and  smooth-bore  is  really 
less  closely  kin  to  the  strong  pleasures  so  beloved  by  the 
hunter  who  trusts  in  horse  and  rifle  than  are  certain  other 
outdoor  pastimes,  of  the  rougher  and  hardier  kind.  Such 
a  pastime  is  snow-shoeing,  whether  with  webbed  rackets, 
in  the  vast  northern  forests,  or  with  skees,  on  the  bare 
slopes  of  the  Rockies.  Such  is  mountaineering,  especially 
when  joined  with  bold  exploration  of  the  unknown. 
Most  of  our  mountains  are  of  rounded  shape,  and  though 
climbing  them  is  often  hard  work,  it  is  rarely  difficult  or 
dangerous,  save  in  bad  weather,  or  after  a  snowfall.  But 
there  are  many  of  which  this  is  not  true  ;  the  Tetons,  for 
instance,  and  various  glacier-bearing  peaks  in  the  North- 
west ;  while  the  lofty,  snow-clad  ranges  of  British  Colum- 


45 2  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

bia  and  Alaska  offer  one  of  the  finest  fields  in  the  world 
for  the  daring  cragsman.  Mountaineering  is  among  the 
manliest  of  sports  ;  and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  some  of 
our  young  men  with  a  taste  for  hard  work  and  adventure 
among  the  high  hills  will  attempt  the  conquest  of  these 
great  untrodden  mountains  of  their  own  continent.  As 
with  all  pioneer  work,  there  would  be  far  more  discom- 
fort and  danger,  far  more  need  to  display  resolution,  hardi- 
hood, and  wisdom  in  such  an  attempt  than  in  any  expedi- 
tion on  well  known  and  historic  ground  like  the  Swiss 
Alps ;  but  the  victory  would  be  a  hundred-fold  better 
worth  winning. 

The  dweller  or  sojourner  in  the  wilderness  who  most 
keenly  loves  and  appreciates  his  wild  surroundings,  and 
all  their  sights  and  sounds,  is  the  man  who  also  loves  and 
appreciates  the  books  which  tell  of  them. 

Foremost  of  all  American  writers  on  outdoor  life  is 
John  Burroughs  ;  and  I  can  scarcely  suppose  that  any 
man  who  cares  for  existence  outside  the  cities  would  will- 
ingly be  without  anything  that  he  has  ever  written.  To 
the  naturalist,  to  the  observer  and  lover  of  nature,  he  is 
of  course  worth  many  times  more  than  any  closet  sys- 
tematist ;  and  though  he  has  not  been  very  much  in  really 
wild  regions,  his  pages  so  thrill  with  the  sights  and  sounds 
of  outdoor  life  that  nothing  by  any  writer  who  is  a  mere 
professional  scientist  or  a  mere  professional  hunter  can 
take  their  place,  or  do  more  than  supplement  them — for 
scientist  and  hunter  alike  would  do  well  to  remember  that 
before  a  book  can  take  the  highest  rank  in  any  particular 
line  it  must  also  rank  high  in  literature  proper.  Of 


Hunting  Lore.  453 

course,  for  us  Americans,  Burroughs  has  a  peculiar  charm 
that  he  cannot  have  for  others,  no  matter  how  much  they, 
too,  may  like  him  ;  for  what  he  writes  of  is  our  own,  and 
he  calls  to  our  minds  memories  and  associations  that  are 
very  dear.  His  books  make  us  homesick  when  we  read 
them  in  foreign  lands ;  for  they  spring  from  our  soil  as 
truly  as  Snowbound  or  The  Biglow  Papers? 

As  a  woodland  writer,  Thoreau  comes  second  only  to 
Burroughs. 

For  natural  history  in  the  narrower  sense  there  are 
still  no  better  books  than  Audubon  and  Bachman's  Mam- 
mals and  Audubon's  Birds.  There  are  also  good  works 
by  men  like  Coues  and  Bendire  ;  and  if  Hart  Merriam, 
of  the  Smithsonian,  will  only  do  for  the  mammals  of  the 
United  States  what  he  has  already  done  for  those  of  the 
Adirondacks,  we  shall  have  the  best  book  of  its  kind  in 
existence.  Nor,  among  less  technical  writings,  should 
one  overlook  such  essays  as  those  of  Maurice  Thompson 
and  Olive  Thorne  Miller. 

There  have  been  many  American  hunting-books  ;  but 
too  often  they  have  been  very  worthless,  even  when  the 
writers  possessed  the  necessary  first-hand  knowledge,  and 
the  rare  capacity  of  seeing  the  truth.  Few  of  the  old- 

J  I  am  under  many  obligations  to  the  writings  of  Mr.  Burroughs  (though  there 
are  one  or  two  of  his  theories  from  which  I  should  dissent)  ;  and  there  is  a  piece  of 
indebtedness  in  this  very  volume  of  which  I  have  only  just  become  aware.  In  my 
chapter  on  the  prong-buck  there  is  a  paragraph  which  will  at  once  suggest  to  any  lover 
of  Burroughs  some  sentences  in  his  essay  on  "  Birds  and  Poets."  Ldid  not  notice  the 
resemblance  until  happening  to  reread  the  essay  after  my  own  chapter  was  written, 
and  at  the  time  I  had  no  idea  that  I  was  borrowing  from  anybody,  the  more  so  as  I 
was  thinking  purely  of  western  wilderness  life  and  western  wilderness  game,  with 
which  I  knew  Mr.  Burroughs  had  never  been  familiar.  I  have  concluded  to  leave  the 
paragraph  in  with  this  acknowledgment. 


454  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

time  hunters  ever  tried  to  write  of  what  they  had  seen 
and  done  ;  and  of  those  who  made  the  effort  fewer  still 
succeeded.  Innate  refinement  and  the  literary  faculty— 
that  is,  the  faculty  of  writing  a  thoroughly  interesting  and 
readable  book,  full  of  valuable  information — may  exist 
in  uneducated  people  ;  but  if  they  do  not,  no  amount  of 
experience  in  the  field  can  supply  their  lack.  However, 
we  have  had  some  good  works  on  the  chase  and  habits 
of  big  game,  such  as  Caton's  Deer  and  Antelope  of 
America,  Van  Dyke's  Still-Hunter,  Elliott's  Carolina 
Sports,  and  Dodge's  Hunting  Grounds  of  the  Great 
West,  besides  the  Century  Company's  Sport  with  Rod 
and  Gun.  Then  there  is  Catlin's  book,  and  the  journals 
of  the  explorers  from  Lewis  and  Clarke  down  ;  and  occa- 
sional volumes  on  outdoor  life,  such  as  Theodore  Win- 
throp's  Canoe  and  Saddle,  and  Clarence  King's  Mountain- 
eering in  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

Two  or  three  of  the  great  writers  of  American  liter- 
ature, notably  Parkman  in  his  Oregon  Trail  and,  with 
less  interest,  Irving  in  his  Trip  on  the  Prairies  have 
written  with  power  and  charm  of  life  in  the  American 
wilderness  ;  but  no  one  has  arisen  to  do  for  the  far  west- 
ern plainsmen  and  Rocky  Mountain  trappers  quite  what 
Hermann  Melville  did  for  the  South  Sea  whaling  folk  in 
Omoo  and  Moby  Dick.  The  best  description  of  these 
old-time  dwellers  among  the  mountains  and  on  the  plains 
is  to  be  found  in  a  couple  of  good  volumes  by  the  Eng- 
lishman Ruxton.  However,  the  backwoodsmen  proper, 
both  in  their  forest  homes  and  when  they  first  began  to 
venture  out  on  the  prairie,  have  been  portrayed  by  a  master 


Hunting  Lore.  455 

hand.  In  a  succession  of  wonderfully  drawn  characters, 
ranging  from  "  Aaron  Thousandacres "  to  "  Ishmael 
Bush,"  Fenimore  Cooper  has  preserved  for  always  the 
likenesses  of  these  stark  pioneer  settlers  and  backwoods 
hunters  ;  uncouth,  narrow,  hard,  suspicious,  but  with  all 
the  virile  virtues  of  a  young  and  masterful  race,  a  race  of 
mighty  breeders,  mighty  fighters,  mighty  commonwealth 
builders.  As  for  Leatherstocking,  he  is  one  of  the  undy- 
ing men  of  story ;  grand,  simple,  kindly,  pure-minded, 
staunchly  loyal,  the  type  of  the  steel-thewed  and  iron- 
willed  hunter-warrior. 

Turning  from  the  men  of  fiction  to  the  men  of  real  life, 
it  is  worth  noting  how  many  of  the  leaders  among  our 
statesmen  and  soldiers  have  sought  strength  and  pleasure 
in  the  chase,  or  in  kindred  vigorous  pastimes.  Of  course 
field  sports,  or  at  least  the  wilder  kinds,  which  entail  the 
exercise  of  daring,  and  the  endurance  of  toil  and  hardship, 
and  which  lead  men  afar  into  the  forests  and  mountains, 
stand  above  athletic  exercises ;  exactly  as  among  the  lat- 
ter, rugged  outdoor  games,  like  football  and  lacrosse,  are 
much  superior  to  mere  gymnastics  and  calisthenics. 

With  a  few  exceptions  the  men  among  us  who  have 
stood  foremost  in  political  leadership,  like  their  fellows  who 
have  led  our  armies,  have  been  of  stalwart  frame  and  sound 
bodily  health.  When  they  sprang  from  the  frontier  folk, 
as  did  Lincoln  and  Andrew  Jackson,  they  usually  hunted 
much  in  their  youth,  if  only  as  an  incident  in  the  prolonged 
warfare  waged  by  themselves  and  their  kinsmen  against 
the  wild  forces  of  nature.  Old  Israel  Putnam's  famous 
wolf-killing  feat  comes  strictly  under  this  head.  Doubtless 


456  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

he  greatly  enjoyed  the  excitement  of  the  adventure ;  but 
he  went  into  it  as  a  matter  of  business,  not  of  sport.  The 
wolf,  the  last  of  its  kind  in  his  neighborhood,  had  taken 
heavy  toll  of  the  flocks  of  himself  and  his  friends ;  when 
they  found  the  deep  cave  in  which  it  had  made  its  den  it 
readily  beat  off  the  dogs  sent  in  to  assail  it ;  and  so  Putnam 
crept  in  himself,  with  his  torch  and  his  flint-lock  musket, 
and  shot  the  beast  where  it  lay. 

When  such  men  lived  in  long  settled  and  thickly  peopled 
regions,  they  needs  had  to  accommodate  themselves  to  the 
conditions  and  put  up  with  humbler  forms  of  sport.  Web- 
ster, like  his  great  rival  for  Whig  leadership,  Henry  Clay, 
cared  much  for  horses,  dogs,  and  guns;  but  though  an 
outdoor  man  he  had  no  chance  to  develop  a  love  for  big- 
game  hunting.  He  was,  however,  very  fond  of  the  rod  and 
shotgun.  Mr.  Cabot  Lodge  recently  handed  me  a  letter 
written  to  his  grandfather  by  Webster,  and  describing  a 
day's  trout  fishing.  It  may  be  worth  giving  for  the  sake 
of  the  writer,  and  because  of  the  fine  heartiness  and  zest 
in  enjoyment  which  it  shows  : 

SANDWICH,  June  4, 
Saturday  mor'g 

6  o'clock 
DEAR  SIR  : 

I  send  you  eight  or  nine  trout,  which  I  took  yesterday,  in  that  chief 
of  all  brooks,  Mashpee.  I  made  a  long  day  of  it,  and  with  good  success, 
for  me.  John  was  with  me,  full  of  good  advice,  but  did  not  fish — nor 
carry  a  rod. 

I  took  26  trouts,  all  weighing          .        .         .         lylb.  i2oz. 
The  largest  (you  have  him)  weighed  at  Crokers       2  "     4  " 

The  5  largest 3   "     5  " 

The  eight  largest 1 1   "     8  " 

I  got  these  by  following  your  advice  ;  that  is,  by  careful  &  thorough 
fishing  of  the  difficult  places,  which  others  do  not  fish.  The  brook  is 


Hunting  Lore.  457 

fished,  nearly  every  day.  I  entered  it,  not  so  high  up  as  we  sometimes 
do,  between  7  &  8  o'clock,  &  at  12  was  hardly  more  than  half  "way  down 
to  the  meeting  house  path.  You  see  I  did  not  hurry.  The  day  did  not 
hold  out  to  fish  the  whole  brook  properly.  The  largest  trout  I  took  at 
3  P.M.  (you  see  I  am  precise)  below  the  meeting  house,  under  a  bush  on 
the  right  bank,  two  or  three  rods  below  the  large  beeches.  It  is  singular, 
that  in  the  whole  day,  I  did  not  take  two  trouts  out  of  the  same  hole.  I 
found  both  ends,  or  parts  of  the  Brook  about  equally  productive.  Small 
fish  not  plenty,  in  either.  So  many  hooks  get  every  thing  which  is  not 
hid  away  in  the  manner  large  trouts  take  care  of  themselves.  I  hooked 
one,  which  I  suppose  to  be  larger  than  any  which  I  took,  as  he  broke 
my  line,  by  fair  pulling,  after  I  had  pulled  him  out  of  his  den,  &  was 
playing  him  in  fair  open  water. 

Of  what  I  send  you,  I  pray  you  keep  what  you  wish  yourself,  send 
three  to  Mr.  Ticknor,  &  three  to  Dr.  Warren  ;  or  two  of  the  larger  ones, 
to  each  will  perhaps  be  enough — &  if  there  be  any  left,  there  is  Mr. 
Callender  &  Mr.  Blake,  &  Mr.  Davis,  either  of  them  not  "  averse  to  fish." 
Pray  let  Mr.  Davis  see  them — especially  the  large  one. — As  he  promised 
to  come,  &  fell  back,  I  desire  to  excite  his  regrets.  I  hope  you  will 
have  the  large  one  on  your  own  table. 

The  day  was  fine — not  another  hook  in  the  Brook.  John  steady  as 
a  judge — and  every  thing  else  exactly  right.  I  never,  on  the  whole,  had 
so  agreeable  a  day's  fishing  tho  the  result,  in  pounds  or  numbers,  is 
not  great ; — nor  ever  expect  such  another. 

Please  preserve  this  letter  •  but  rehearse  not  these  particulars  to  the 
uninitiated. 

I  think  the  Limerick  not  the  best  hook.  Whether  it  pricks  too  soon, 
or  for  what  other  reason,  I  found,  or  thought  I  found,  the  fish  more 
likely  to  let  go  his  hold,  from  this,  than  from  the  old  fashioned  hook. 

Yrs. 
H.  CABOT,  Esq.  D.  WEBSTER. 

The  greatest  of  Americans,  Washington,  was  very  fond 
of  hunting,  both  with  rifle  or  fowling-piece,  and  especially 
with  horse,  horn,  and  hound.  Essentially  the  representative 
of  all  that  is  best  in  our  national  life,  standing  high  as  a 
general,  high  as  a  statesman,  and  highest  of  all  as  a  man, 
he  could  never  have  been  what  he  was  had  he  not  taken 
delight  in  feats  of  hardihood,  of  daring,  and  of  bodily 


458  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

prowess.  He  was  strongly  drawn  to  those  field  sports 
which  demand  in  their  follower  the  exercise  of  the  manly 
virtues — courage,  endurance,  physical  address.  As  a  young 
man,  clad  in  the  distinctive  garb  of  the  backwoodsman,  the 
fringed  and  tasselled  hunting-shirt,  he  led  the  life  of  a 
frontier  surveyor  ;  and  like  his  fellow  adventurers  in  wil- 
derness exploration  and  Indian  campaigning,  he  was  often 
forced  to  trust  to  the  long  rifle  for  keeping  his  party  in 
food.  When  at  his  home,  at  Mount  Vernon,  he  hunted 
from  simple  delight  in  the  sport. 

His  manuscript  diaries,  preserved  in  the  State  Depart- 
ment at  Washington,  are  full  of  entries  concerning  his 
feats  in  the  chase  ;  almost  all  of  them  naturally  falling  in 
the  years  between  the  ending  of  the  French  war  and  the 
opening  of  the  Revolutionary  struggle  against  the  British, 
or  else  in  the  period  separating  his  service  as  Command- 
er-in-chief of  the  Continental  armies  from  his  term  of 
office  as  President  of  the  Republic.  These  entries  are 
scattered  through  others  dealing  with  his  daily  duties  in 
overseeing  his  farm  and  mill,  his  attendance  at  the  Vir- 
ginia House  of  Burgesses,  his  journeys,  the  drill  of  the 
local  militia,  and  all  the  various  interests  of  his  many-sided 
life.  Fond  though  he  was  of  hunting,  he  was  wholly  in- 
capable of  the  career  of  inanity  led  by  those  who  make 
sport,  not  a  manly  pastime,  but  the  one  serious  business 
of  their  lives 

The  entries  in  the  diaries  are  short,  and  are  couched 
in  the  homely  vigorous  English,  so  familiar  to  the  readers 
of  Washington's  journals  and  private  letters.  Sometimes 
they  are  brief  jottings  in  reference  to  shooting  trips  ;  such 


Hunting  Lore.  459 

as  :  "  Rid  out  with  my  gun  "  ;  "  went  pheasant  hunting  "  ; 
"  went  ducking,"  and  "  went  a  gunning  up  the  Creek."  But 
far  more  often  they  are  :  "  Rid  out  with  my  hounds,"  "  went 
a  fox  hunting,"  or  "went  a  hunting."  In  their  perfect 
simplicity  and  good  faith  they  are  strongly  characteristic 
of  the  man.  He  enters  his  blank  days  and  failures  as 
conscientiously  as  his  red-letter  days  of  success  ;  recording 
with  equal  care  on  one  day,  "  Fox  hunting  with  Captain 
Posey — catch  a  Fox,"  and  another,  "  Went  a  hunting  with 
Lord  Fairfax  .  .  .  catched  nothing." 

Occasionally  he  began  as  early  as  August  and  contin- 
ued until  April ;  and  while  he  sometimes  made  but  eight 
or  ten  hunts  in  a  season,  at  others  he  made  as  many  in  a 
month.  Often  he  hunted  from  Mt.  Vernon,  going  out 
once  or  twice  a  week,  either  alone  or  with  a  party  of  his 
friends  and  neighbors  ;  and  again  he  would  meet  with 
these  same  neighbors  at  one  of  their  houses,  and  devote 
several  days  solely  to  the  chase.  The  country  was  still 
very  wild,  and  now  and  then  game  was  encountered  with 
which  the  fox-hounds  proved  unable  to  cope ;  as  witness 
entries  like:  "found  both  a  Bear  and  a  Fox,  but  got 
neither  "  ;  "  went  a  hunting  .  .  .  started  a  Deer  &  then  a 
Fox  but  got  neither";  and  "Went  a  hunting  and  after 
trailing  a  fox  a  good  while  the  Dogs  Raized  a  Deer  &  ran 
out  of  the  Neck  with  it  &  did  not  some  of  them  at  least 
come  home  till  the  next  day."  If  it  was  a  small  animal,  how- 
ever, it  was  soon  accounted  for.  "  Went  a  Hunting  .  .  . 
catched  a  Rakoon  but  never  found  a  Fox." 

The  woods  were  so  dense  and  continuous  that  it  was 
often  impossible  for  the  riders  to  keep  close  to  the  hounds 


460  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

throughout  the  run  ;  though  in  one  or  two  of  the  best 
covers,  as  the  journal  records,  Washington  "  directed 
paths  to  be  cut  for  Fox  Hunting."  This  thickness  of  the 
timber  made  it  difficult  to  keep  the  hounds  always  under 
control ;  and  there  are  frequent  allusions  to  their  going 
off  on  their  own  account,  as  "Joined  some  dogs  that  were 
self  hunting."  Sometimes  the  hounds  got  so  far  away 
that  it  was  impossible  to  tell  whether  they  had  killed  or 
not,  the  journal  remarking  "  catched  nothing  that  we  know 
of,"  or  "  found  a  fox  at  the  head  of  the  blind  Pocoson  which 
we  suppose  was  killed  in  an  hour  but  could  not  find  it." 

Another  result  of  this  density  and  continuity  of  cover 
was  the  frequent  recurrence  of  days  of  ill  success.  There 
are  many  such  entries  as  :  "  Went  Fox  hunting,  but  started 
nothing";  "Went  a  hunting,  but  catched  nothing"; 
"found  nothing";  "found  a  Fox  and  lost  it."  Often 
failure  followed  long  and  hard  runs:  "Started  a  Fox, 
run  him  four  hours,  took  the  Hounds  off  at  night"; 
"  found  a  Fox  and  run  it  6  hours  and  then  lost "  ;  "  Went 
a  hunting  above  Darrells  .  .  .  found  a  fox  by  two 
Dogs  but  lost  it  upon  joining  the  Pack."  In  the  season 
of  1772-73  Washington  hunted  eighteen  days  and  killed 
nine  foxes ;  and  though  there  were  seasons  when  he  was 
out  much  more  often,  this  proportion  of  kills  to  runs  was 
if  anything  above  the  average.  At  the  beginning  of  1 768 
he  met  with  a  series  of  blank  days  which  might  well  have 
daunted  a  less  patient  and  persevering  hunter.  In  Jan- 
uary and  the  early  part  of  February  he  was  out  nine 
times  without  getting  a  thing  ;  but  his  diary  does  not  con- 
tain a  word  of  disappointment  or  surprise,  each  successive 


Hunting  Lore.  461 

piece  of  ill-luck  being  entered  without  comment,  even 
when  one  day  he  met  some  more  fortunate  friends  "who 
had  just  catched  2  foxes."  At  last,  on  February  i2th,_he 
himself  "  catched  two  foxes"  ;  the  six  or  eight  gentlemen 
of  the  neighborhood  who  made  up  the  field  all  went  home 
with  him  to  Mt.  Vernon,  to  dine  and  pass  the  night,  and 
in  the  hunt  of  the  following  day  they  repeated  the  feat  of 
a  double  score.  In  the  next  seven  days'  hunting  he  killed 
four  times. 

The  runs  of  course  varied  greatly  in  length  ;  on  one 
day  he  "  found  a  bitch  fox  at  Piney  Branch  and  killed  it  in 
an  hour"  ;  on  another  he  "  killed  a  Dog  fox  after  having 
him  on  foot  three  hours  &  hard  running  an  hour  and  a 
qr."  ;  and  on  yet  another  he  "  catched  a  fox  with  a  bobd 
Tail  &  cut  ears  after  7  hours  chase  in  which  most  of  the 
Dogs  were  worsted."  Sometimes  he  caught  his  fox  in 
thirty-five  minutes,  and  again  he  might  run  it  nearly  the 
whole  day  in  vain  ;  the  average  run  seems  to  have  been 
from  an  hour  and  a  half  to  three  hours.  Sometimes 
the  entry  records  merely  the  barren  fact  of  the  run  ;  at 
others  a  few  particulars  are  given,  with  homespun,  telling 
directness,  as  :  "  Went  a  hunting  with  Jacky  Custis  and 
catched  a  Bitch  Fox  after  three  hours  chace — founded  it 
on  ye.  ck.  by  I.  Soals  "  ;  or  "  went  a  Fox  hunting  with  Lund 
Washington — took  the  drag  of  a  fox  by  Isaac  Gates  & 
carrd.  it  tolerably  well  to  the  old  Glebe  then  touched  now 
and  then  upon  a  cold  scent  till  we  came  into  Col.  Fair- 
faxes Neck  where  we  found  about  half  after  three  upon  the 
Hills  just  above  Accotinck  Creek — after  running  till  quite 
Dark  took  off  the  Dogs  and  came  home." 


462  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

The  foxes  were  doubtless  mostly  of  the  gray  kind,  and 
besides  going  to  holes  they  treed  readily.  In  January, 
1770,  he  was  out  seven  days,  killing  four  foxes  ;  and  two 
of  the  entries  in  the  journal  relate  to  foxes  which  treed ; 
one,  on  the  loth,  being,  "  I  went  a  hunting  in  the  Neck 
and  visited  the  plantn.  there  found  and  killed  a  bitch  fox 
after  treeing  it  3  t.  chasg.  it  abt.  3  hrs.,"  and  the  other,  on 
the  23d  :  "  Went  a  hunting  after  breakfast  &  found  a  Fox 
at  muddy  hole  &  killed  her  (it  being  a  bitch)  after  a 
chase  of  better  than  two  hours  and  after  treeing  her  twice 
the  last  of  which  times  she  fell  dead  out  of  the  Tree  after 
being  therein  sevl.  minutes  apparently."  In  April,  1769, 
he  hunted  four  days,  and  on  every  occasion  the  fox  treed. 
April  7th,  "  Dog  fox  killed,  ran  an  hour  &  treed  twice." 
April  i  ith,  "  Went  a  fox  hunting  and  took  a  fox  alive  after 
running  him  to  a  Tree — brot  him  home."  April  i2th, 
"Chased  the  above  fox  an  hour  &  45  minutes  when  he 
treed  again  after  which  we  lost  him."  April  i3th, 
"Killed  a  dog  fox  after  treeing  him  in  35  minutes." 

Washington  continued  his  fox-hunting  until,  in  the 
spring  of  1 775,  the  guns  of  the  minute-men  in  Massachusetts 
called  him  to  the  command  of  the  Revolutionary  soldiery. 
When  the  eight  weary  years  of  campaigning  were  over, 
he  said  good-by  to  the  war-worn  veterans  whom  he  had 
led  through  defeat  and  disaster  to  ultimate  triumph,  and 
became  once  more  a  Virginia  country  gentleman.  Then 
he  took  up  his  fox-hunting  with  as  much  zest  as  ever. 
The  entries  in  his  journal  are  now  rather  longer,  and  go 
more  into  detail  than  formerly.  Thus,  on  December  1 2th, 
1785,  he  writes  that  after  an  early  breakfast  he  went  on  a 


Hunting  Lore.  463 

hunt  and  found  a  fox  at  half  after  ten,  "  being  first  plagued 
with  the  dogs  running  hogs,"  followed  on  his  drag  for  some 
time,  then  ran  him  hard  for  an  hour,  when  there  came  a 
fault ;  but  when  four  dogs  which  had  been  thrown  out 
rejoined  the  pack  they  put  the  fox  up  afresh,  and  after 
fifty  minutes'  run  killed  him  in  an  open  field,  "  every  Rider 
&  every  Dog  being  present  at  the  Death."  With  his 
usual  alternations  between  days  like  this,  and  days  of  ill- 
luck,  he  hunted  steadily  every  season  until  his  term  of 
private  life  again  drew  to  a  close  and  he  was  called  to  the 
headship  of  the  nation  he  had  so  largely  helped  to  found. 

In  a  certain  kind  of  fox-hunting  lore  there  is  much 
reference  to  a  Warwickshire  squire  who,  when  the  Parlia- 
mentary and  Royalist  armies  were  forming  for  the  battle 
at  Edgehill,  was  discovered  between  the  hostile  lines, 
unmovedly  drawing  the  covers  for  a  fox.  Now,  this  placid 
sportsman  should  by  rights  have  been  slain  offhand  by 
the  first  trooper  who  reached  him,  whether  Cavalier  or 
Roundhead.  He  had  mistaken  means  for  ends,  he  had 
confounded  the  healthful  play  which  should  fit  a  man  for 
needful  work  with  the  work  itself ;  and  mistakes  of  this 
kind  are  sometimes  criminal.  Hardy  sports  of  the  field 
offer  the  best  possible  training  for  war  ;  but  they  become 
contemptible  when  indulged  in  while  the  nation  is  at 
death-grips  with  her  enemies. 

It  was  not  in  Washington's  strong  nature  to  make  such 
an  error.  Nor  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  was  he  likely  to 
undervalue  either  the  pleasure,  or  the  real  worth  of  out- 
door sports.  The  qualities  of  heart,  mind,  and  body, 
which  made  him  delight  in  the  hunting-field,  and  which 


464  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

he  there  exercised  and  developed,  stood  him  in  good  stead 
in  many  a  long  campaign  and  on  many  a  stricken  field ; 
they  helped  to  build  that  stern  capacity  for  leadership  in 
war  which  he  showed  alike  through  the  bitter  woe  of  the 
winter  at  Valley  Forge,  on  the  night  when  he  ferried  his 
men  across  the  half-frozen  Delaware  to  the  overthrow  of 
the  German  mercenaries  at  Trenton,  and  in  the  brilliant 
feat  of  arms  whereof  the  outcome  was  the  decisive  victory 
of  Yorktown. 


APPENDIX. 

IN  this  volume  I  have  avoided  repeating  what  was  contained 
in  either  of  my  former  books,  the  Hunting  Trips  of  a 
Ranchman  and  Ranch  Life  and  the  Hunting  Trail.  For 
many  details  of  life  and  work  in  the  cattle  country  I  must 
refer  the  reader  to  these  two  volumes ;  and  also  for  more  full 
accounts  of  the  habits  and  methods  of  hunting  such  game  as  deer 
and  antelope.  As  far  as  I  know,  the  description  in  my  Ranch 
Life  of  the  habits  and  the  chase  of  the  mountain  sheep  is  the 
only  moderately  complete  account  thereof  that  has  ever  been 
published.  The  five  game-heads  figured  in  this  volume  are 
copied  exactly  from  the  originals,  now  in  my  home ;  the  animals 
were,  of  course,  shot  by  myself. 

There  have  been  many  changes,  both  in  my  old  hunting- 
grounds  and  my  old  hunting-friends,  since  I  first  followed  the 
chase  in  the  far  western  country.  Where  the  buffalo  and  the 
Indian  ranged,  along  the  Little  Missouri,  the  branded  herds  of 
the  ranchmen  now  graze  ;  the  scene  of  my  elk-hunt  at  Two  Ocean 
Pass  is  now  part  of  the  National  Forest  Reserve ;  settlers  and 
miners  have  invaded  the  ground  where  I  killed  bear  and  moose  ; 
and  steamers  ply  on  the  lonely  waters  of  Kootenai  Lake.  Of  my 
hunting  companions  some  are  alive  ;  others — among  them  my 
staunch  and  valued  friend,  Will  Dow,  and  crabbed,  surly  old 
Hank  Griffen — are  dead  ;  while  yet  others  have  drifted  away, 
and  I  know  not  what  has  become  of  them. 

I  have  made  no  effort  to  indicate  the  best  kind  of  camp  kit 
for  hunting,  for  the  excellent  reason  that  it  depends  so  much 

465 


466  The  Wilderness  Hunter. 

upon  the  kind  of  trip  taken,  and  upon  the  circumstances  of  the 
person  taking  it.  The  hunting  trip  may  be  made  with  a  pack- 
train,  or  with  a  wagon,  or  with  a  canoe,  or  on  foot ;  and  the 
hunter  may  have  half  a  dozen  attendants,  or  he  may  go  abso- 
lutely alone.  I  have  myself  made  trips  under  all  of  these  circum- 
stances. At  times  I  have  gone  with  two  or  three  men,  several 
tents,  and  an  elaborate  apparatus  for  cooking,  cases  of  canned 
goods,  and  the  like.  On  the  other  hand,  I  have  made  trips  on 
horseback,  with  nothing  whatsoever  beyond  what  I  had  on,  save 
my  oil-skin  slicker,  a  metal  cup,  and  some  hardtack,  tea,  and  salt 
in  the  saddle  pockets;  and  I  have  gone  for  a  week  or  two's 
journey  on  foot,  carrying  on  my  shoulders  my  blanket,  a  frying- 
pan,  some  salt,  a  little  flour,  a  small  chunk  of  bacon,  and  a 
hatchet.  So  it  is  with  dress.  The  clothes  should  be  stout,  of  a 
neutral  tint ;  the  hat  should  be  soft,  without  too  large  a  brim  ;  the 
shoes  heavy,  and  the  soles  studded  with  small  nails,  save  when 
moccasins  or  rubber-soled  shoes  are  worn  ;  but  within  these  limits 
there  is  room  for  plenty  of  variation.  Avoid,  however,  the  so- 
called  deer-stalker's  cap,  which  is  an  abomination  ;  its  peaked 
brim  giving  no  protection  whatsoever  to  the  eyes  when  facing 
the  sun  quartering,  a  position  in  which  many  shots  must  be  taken. 
In  very  cold  regions,  fur  coats,  caps,  and  mittens,  and  all-wool 
underclothing  are  necessary.  I  dislike  rubber  boots  when  they 
can  possibly  be  avoided.  In  hunting  in  snow  in  the  winter  I  use 
the  so-called  German  socks  and  felt  overshoes  where  possible. 
One  winter  I  had  an  ermine  cap  made.  It  was  very  good  for 
peeping  over  the  snowy  ridge  crests  when  game  was  on  the  other 
side  ;  but,  except  when  the  entire  landscape  was  snow-covered, 
it  was  an  unmitigated  nuisance.  In  winter,  webbed  snow-shoes 
are  used  in  the  thick  woods,  and  skees  in  the  open  country. 

There  is  an  endless  variety  of  opinion  about  rifles,  and  all 
that  can  be  said  with  certainty  is  that  any  good  modern  rifle  will 
do.  It  is  the  man  behind  the  rifle  that  counts,  after  the  weapon 
has  reached  a  certain  stage  of  perfection.  One  of  my  friends 


Appendix.  467 

invariably  uses  an  old  Government  Springfield,  a  45-calibre,  with 
an  ounce  bullet.  Another  cares  for  nothing  but  the  40-90  Sharps', 
a  weapon  for  which  I  myself  have  much  partiality.  Another 
uses  always  the  old  45-calibre  Sharps',  and  yet  another  the~4f- 
calibre  Remington.  Two  of  the  best  bear  and  elk  hunters  I  know 
prefer  the  32-  and  38-calibre  Marlin's,  with  long  cartridges, 
weapons  with  which  I  myself  would  not  undertake  to  produce 
any  good  results.  Yet  others  prefer  pieces  of  very  large  calibre. 
The  amount  of  it  is  that  each  one  of  these  guns  possesses  some 
excellence  which  the  others  lack,  but  which  is  in  most  cases 
atoned  for  by  some  corresponding  defect.  Simplicity  of  mechan- 
ism is  very  important,  but  so  is  rapidity  of  fire ;  and  it  is  hard  to 
get  both  of  them  developed  to  the  highest  degree  in  the  same 
piece.  In  the  same  way,  flatness  of  trajectory,  penetration,  range, 
shock,  and  accuracy  are  all  qualities  which  must  be  attained  ;  but 
to  get  one  in  perfection  usually  means  the  sacrifice  of  some  of 
the  rest.  For  instance,  other  things  being  equal,  the  smallest 
calibre  has  the  greatest  penetration,  but  gives  the  least  shock ; 
while  a  very  flat  trajectory,  if  acquired  by  heavy  charges  of  pow- 
der, means  the  sacrifice  of  accuracy.  Similarly,  solid  and  hollow 
pointed  bullets  have,  respectively,  their  merits  and  demerits. 
There  is  no  use  of  dogmatizing  about  weapons.  Some  which 
prove  excellent  for  particular  countries  and  kinds  of  hunting  are 
useless  in  others. 

There  seems  to  be  no  doubt,  judging  from  the  testimony  of 
sportsmen  in  South  Africa  and  in  India,  that  very  heavy  calibre 
double-barrelled  rifles  are  best  for  use  in  the  dense  jungles  and 
against  the  thick-hided  game  of  those  regions ;  but  they  are  of 
very  little  value  with  us.  In  1882  one  of  the  buffalo  hunters  on 
the  Little  Missouri  obtained  from  some  Englishman  a  double- 
barrelled  ten-bore  rifle  of  the  kind  used  against  rhinoceros,  buffalo, 
and  elephant  in  the  Old  World ;  but  it  proved  very  inferior  to 
the  40-  and  45-calibre  Sharps'  buffalo  guns  when  used  under  the 
conditions  of  American  buffalo  hunting,  the  tremendous  shock 


468 


The  Wilderness  Hunter. 


given  by  the  bullet  not  compensating  for  the  gun's  great  relative 
deficiency  in  range  and  accuracy,  while  even  the  penetration  was 
inferior  at  ordinary  distances.  It  is  largely  also  a  matter  of  indi- 
vidual taste.  At  one  time  I  possessed  a  very  expensive  double- 
barrelled  500  Express,  by  one  of  the  crack  English  makers ;  but 
I  never  liked  the  gun,  and  could  not  do  as  well  with  it  as  with 
my  repeater,  which  cost  barely  a  sixth  as  much.  So  one  day  I 
handed  it  to  a  Scotch  friend,  who  was  manifestly  ill  at  ease  with 
a  Winchester  exactly  like  my  own.  He  took  to  the  double-barrel 
as  naturally  as  I  did  to  the  repeater,  and  did  excellent  work  with 
it.  Personally,  I  have  always  preferred  the  Winchester.  I  now 
use  a  45-90,  with  my  old  buffalo  gun,  a  40-90  Sharps',  as  spare 
rifle.  Both,  of  course,  have  specially  tested  barrels,  and  are 
stocked  and  sighted  to  suit  myself. 


INDEX 


Accidents  to  the  ranch  wagon,  46 ;    to      Beaver  Dick,  182 


cowboys,  427 

Americans  in  the  wilderness,  44 
American,   the,  wilderness,  I  ;  hunting- 
books,  454 

Animal,  143  ;  superstition  of,  145 
Animals,  legitimate  killing  of,  448 
Antelope,  4,  17,  56,  62  ;  enemies  of,  73  ; 
curiosity  of,  74  ;  winter  haunts  of,  76  ; 
characteristics  of,  95 
Army,  the  regular,  and  hunting,  13 

Bad  Lands,  view  of  the,  28 

Battle  ground,  112 

Bauman's  goblin  story,  441 

Bear,    the    black,    17  ;    the    grisly,    17 
charged  by  a,  138  ;    shooting  a,  138 
species  of,  267  ;  old  hunters  on,  266 
cattle-killing  by,  273  ;   prey   on   each 
other,  280 

Bear  (the  black),  where  found,  255  ; 
hunted  with  dogs,  257  ;  trapping,  260  ; 
feed  of,  262  ;  size  of,  264 

Bear  (the  grisly),  265  ;  size  of,  269  ;  hab- 
its of,  270 ;  fond  of  fish,  281  ;  food  of, 
282 ;  haunts  of,  285  ;  rutting  season, 
286 ;  cubs,  287  ;  hunting  with  dogs, 
290  ;  stalking,  294  ;  hunting,  296  ; 
charged  by,  305  ;  a  dangerous  antago- 
nist, 307  ;  ways  of  fighting,  314 

Bears,  modes  of  hunting,  287  ;  shooting 
trapped,  289 ;  attacks  by,  327,  330  ; 
lassoing,  332 

Bear-trapper,  danger  to,  290 


Big  Hole  Basin,  climate  of,  113 

Bighorn,  sheep,  17,  49  ;  tracks  of  the, 
103  ;  of  the  Bad  Lands,  104  ;  rutting 
season  of,  104  ;  haunts  of,  104  ;  re, 
quirements  of  a  hunter  of  the,  104 ; 
stalking,  106-109  »  wariness  of,  109 

Bison,  tracking  a  band  of,  250  ;  shooting 
a  bull,  253 

Boone,  Daniel,  6 

Branding  cattle,  25 

Bucker,  a  bad,  41 

Buffalo  Bill's  cowboys,  381 

Buffalo,  the  American,  last  herd  of,  II, 
13,  14 ;  vast  herds  of,  230 ;  slaughter 
of,  231  ;  stampede  of,  241  ;  stalking, 
240  ;  charge  of,  243  ;  mountain,  247 

Buffalo  hunt  of  Elliott  Roosevelt,  232 

Buffaloes,  Gen.  W.  H.  Walker's  experi- 
ence with,  245 

Burroughs,  John,  452 

Bull-dog  flies,  1 1 5 

Calf  wrestlers,  26 

California  Joe,  319 

Camp,  gossip  of  a,  58  ;  returning  to,  151 

Camping  out,  48 

Camp-kit,  a  good,  180 

"  Calling,"  hunting  by,  218 

Caribou,  the  woodland,  16  ;  signs  of  the, 
147  ;  tracks  of  the,  148  ;  shooting  a, 
150;  the  author's  first  hunt  for,  152; 
the  habits  of  the,  154  ;  hide  of,  214 

Carson,  Kit,  9 


469 


470 


Index. 


Cattle,  guarding  of,  at  night,  59  ;  brand- 
ing of,  25  ;  killing  by  bears,  273  ;  the 
pursuit  of  wild,  350 

Cheyenne  Indians,  death  of  two,  440 

Chickaree,  the,  172 

Chipmunk,  the,  172 

"  Circle  riding,"  61 

Clarke,  George  Rogers,  7 

Clay,  Col.  Cecil,  220 

Cock,  the  chaparral,  349 

Columbian,  the,  blacktail,  53  ;  haunts  of, 

54 

Cougar,  the,  17  ;  difficulty  in  hunting, 
335  ;  should  be  hunted  with  dogs,  338  ; 
habits  of,  341,  343  ;  haunts  of,  342  ; 
seldom  attacks  man,  343  ;  cases  of  at- 
tacks on  man,  345  ;  Trescott  on,  346, 

347 

Cowboys,  dress  of,  58  ;  salutation  of, 
58  ;  general  character  of,  413 ;  acci- 
dents to,  427 

Cowley,  Mr.,  366 

Coyote,  see  Wolf 

Crockett,  Davy,  8 

Crow,  Clarke's,  173;  Indians,  436 

"Crusting,"  225 

«'  Cut,"  the,  25 

Deer,  the  whitetail,  16,  37,  50,  53  ;  the 
blacktail,  or  mule,  16,  29-31,  33,  35  ; 
tracks  of,  16 ;  lying  close,  31  ;  Eu- 
ropean red,  170 

Desert  region,  2 

Dow,  George,  312 

Dow,  Will,  168 

Dugout,  a  night  at  a,  80 

Eagle,  the  war,  70-72 

Edwards,  Capt.  Frank,  436 

Elk,  venison  as  a  diet,  175  ;  the  smell  of, 

190  ;  stalking  a  bull  elk,  191  ;  hint  on 

shooting,  192  ;  a  giant,  192 
Elk-hunting  the  most  attractive  of  sports, 

201 

Elk-trails,  peculiarity  of,  189 
Emigrant  train,  an,  82 

Famine,  a  meat,  34 

Fare,  the,  at  the  ranch  house,  20 


Farmers,  the  frontier,  12 

Ferguson,  Robert  Munro,  34,  48.  83,  193 

Ferret,  the  plains,  70 

Ferris,  Sylvane,  35,  48,  49 

"  Filemaker,"  jump  of,  374 

Fire,  a  prairie,  83 

Fire  hunting,  38 

Fisher,  the,  172 

Fool-hen,  the,  see  Spruce  Grouse 

Forest,  sounds  in  the,  146 

Fowl,  sage,  112 

Fox-hunting  as  a  sport,  377 

Frio,  a  ranch  on  the,  349 

Frontiersmen  not  superstitious,  441 

Game  found  in  American  wilderness,  4  ; 
a  comparison  of,  169 ;  game  country, 
177 

Goat-herder,  a  Mexican,  355 

Goat,  the  White,  17,  in  ;  shooting  a, 
119,  124 ;  flavor  of,  125  ;  modes  of 
hunting,  125  ;  stupidity  of,  126  ;  ap- 
pearance of,  127  ;  habits  of,  127  ;  not 
decreasing  in  numbers,  129  ;  an  easy 
prey,  129  ;  haunts  of,  130 

Goblin  story,  a,  441 

Griffin,  Hank,  206,  302 

Grouse,  spruce,  116  ;  ruffled,  117  ;  snow, 
124 

Hampton,  Gen.  Wade,  a  bear  killer, 
258,  399 

Herbert,  Mr.  H.  L.,  374 

Hofer,  Elwood,  179,  280 

Hornaday,  Mr.,  220,  249 

Horses,  driving  loose,  56 

Hounds,  not  used  by  early  hunters,  361  ; 
the  greyhound,  362  ;  scratch  packs  of, 
363  ;  hunting  with,  364  ;  Col.  Wil- 
liams' pack  of,  367 ;  Wadsworth's 
hounds,  369  ;  a  run  with,  370  ;  Mead- 
owbrook,  373  ;  Russian  wolf,  411 

Houston,  Gen.  Sam,  8 

Hunter,  an  old,  76,  78,  79  ;  requirements 
of  a  wilderness,  19 ;  the  real,  178 ; 
dress,  466 

Hunters',  old,  opinions  on  bears,  266 

Hunting-ground,  the  finest,  18  ;  hunting 
on  the  Little  Missouri,  18 


Index, 


47' 


Hunting,  from  the  ranch  house,  30 ;  on 
foot,  31  ;  with  track  hounds,  40 ;  trip, 
duration  of  a,  46 ;  the  pronghorn,  74, 
8 1  ;  trip  to  the  antelope  winter  haunts, 
77,  80 ;  trip,  provisions  on  a,  102  ; 
hardships  met  with  in,  114 ;  modes  of, 
bears,  287  ;  retrospect,  200 

Indians  catching  eagles,  72 

Jackson's,    General   "  Red,"    encounter 

with  a  grisly,  334 
Javalina,  see  Peccary 
Jones,  Colonel  James,  220 

Kentucky,  the  settlement  of,  6 

King,  Clarence,  246,  275 

Kootenai  Lake,  131  ;  camping  by,  132 

Lamoche's,  Baptiste,   adventure  with  a 

bear,  328 

Landscape,  a  dreary,  56 
Lark,  meadow,  64,  65  ;  plains,  64 
"Latigo  Strap,"  59,  60 
Lavishness    of    nature    on    the    Pacific 

slope,  5 

Laws,  game,  needed,  449 
Letter  from  an  old  hunter,  425 
Lewis'  woodpecker,  174 
Little  Missouri,  hunting  on,  18  ;  wapiti 

on  the,  167 
Lucivee,  the,    171 ;    food  of  the,    171 ; 

easily  killed  with  dogs,  171 
Lynx,  northern,  see  Lucivee 

Marcy,  General,  399 

Maverick  bulls,  26  ;  lassoing  of,  27 

McMaster,  Prof.  J.  Bache,  109 

Meadowbrook  hounds,  hunting  with,  373 

Merriam,  Dr.  Hart,  264 

Merrill,  Dr.  James  C.,  310 

Mexican  wild  hog,  see  Peccary 

Miller's  fight  with  a  bear,  320 

Mocking-bird,  the,  66,  68,  349 

Moore,  Mr.  John,  348 

Moose-bird,  the,  see  Whisky- jack 

Moose,  the,  14 ;  giant  of  deer,  203  ; 
haunts  of,  204,  214  ;  fruitless  hunting 
of,  205  ;  stalking  a  bull  moose,  207  ; 


not  found  in  herds,  215  ;  food  of,  216  j 
easily  tamed,  216 ;  bulls  during  the 
rut,  217  ;  able  to  defend  itself,  217  ; 
footprints  of,  211  ;  flesh  of,  214  ;  hide, 
214 ;  gait,  220 ;  will  attack  a  hunter, 
221 

Mountain  buffalo,  247 

Mountain  ptarmigan,  see  Snow  grouse 

Nicknames,  424 
Nightingale,  the,  66 
Nut-pine,  northern,  190 

"  Old  Ephraim,"  see  Grisly  bear 
Old  Ike,  killed  by  a  bear,  317 
"  Old  Manitou,"  102,  105 
OX,  the,  a  steer  outfit,  21,  24 

Pack-animals,  hunters',  179 ;  perversity 
of,  181 

Packing,  skill  required  in,  178  ;  in  the 
rain,  185 

Pack-rats,  69 

Peccary,  18  ;  where  found  in  the  United 
States,  348  ;  unprovoked  attacks  by, 
351  ;  a  band  of,  357 ;  how  hunted, 
358  ;  at  bay,  358  ;  food  of,  359 

Peculiarity  of  elk-trails,  189 

Perkins'  adventure  with  a  bear,  323 

Phillips,  William  H.,  280 

Picturesque  country,  a,  182 

Pingree  killed  by  a  moose,  229 

Pitcher,  Lieutenant  John,  435,  439 

Plains  country,  the,  2 

Plains,  the,  weather  of,  90 

Porcupine,  the,  172 

Prindle,  Old  Man,  401  ;  his  hounds,  401 

Prong-bucks  in  rutting  season,  94 

Pronghorn,  see  Antelope 

Rabbits,  snow-shoe,  190 
Ranch  house,  the,  shut  up,  51 
Ranch  life  during  the  fall  months,  20 
Riding,  cross-country,  377  ;  of  cowboys, 

383  ;  of  Australians,  382 
Rockhill,  Mr.,  271 
Rogers,  Archibald,  309 ;  E.  P.,  220 


472 


Index. 


Roosevelt's,   Elliott,  buffalo  hunt,  232; 

his  diary,  233 

Roosevelt,  West,  35  ;  John,  232 
Round-up,  the,  starting  for,  22  ;  at  work, 

24,  43,  100  ;  loss  of  sleep  at,  55 
Rutting,  the,  season,  30,  94 


Unsportsmanlike  killing  of  deer,  37 
Upper  Geyser  Basin,  200 

Valley,  a  lovely,  103 
Venison  of  elk  as  a  diet,  175 
Visitor  at  the  ranch,  a,  43 


Sage,  Mr.  A.  J.,  382 

Sage  fowl,  112 

Settling  of  the  West,  12 

Sheep,  bighorn,  see  Bighorn 

Shapes  taken   by  American   wilderness, 

1-3 
Shooting,  poor,  36 ;  running  game,  42  ; 

a  caribou,  150  ;  hints  on,  192 
Shoshone  Indians,  hunting-party  of,  194  ; 

their  method  of  hunting,  195 
Silver  thaw,  a,  155 
Sioux,  a  fight  with,  431 
Slough,  stuck  in  a,  112 
Snow-shoes,  hunting  on,  225  ;  two  kinds 

used,  226 

Soldiery  of  the  backwoods,  7 
Sounds,  in  the  wilderness,  68,  69  ;  in  the 

forest,  146 
Stalking,  antelope,  62,  63  ;  the  bighorn, 

106-109  ;  a  bull  elk,  191  ;  buffalo,  240 
Stalk,  an  early,  165 
Stampede  of  buffalo,  241 
Start  for  a  hunt,  the,  40 
Striking  camp  in  bad  weather,  199 
Stump,  Judge  Yancy,  401  ;  his  hounds, 

401 
Sword-Bearer,  the  Crow  medicine  chief, 

436 

Tale  of  western  life,  a,  420 

Tepee  or  wigwam  of  an  old  hunter,  77  ; 

a  tepee,  179 

Tompkins,  Old  Man,  47,  168 
**  Town,"  a  new  western,  418 
Track-hounds,  40 
Trappers,  the  early,  10 
Travelling,  difficult,  113,  119,  134,  157 
Trout,  an  abundance  of,  175 
Two-Ocean  Pass,  186 


Wadsworth,  Mr.  Austin,  369 

Walker,      General     W.     H.,     and     the 

buffaloes,  245 
Wapiti  (bull),  habits  of,  162  ;  cowardice 

of,  163  ;  fight  between  two,  159 
Wapiti,  the,  4,  15  ;  Pugnacity  of,  161  ; 

ways  of  fighting,  163  ;  the  "whistling" 

of  the,  164  ;  gait  of,  167  ;  on  the  Little 

Missouri,    167  ;   antlers  of  the,    170 ; 

noblest  of  his  kind,  202 
Washington  as  a  sportsman,  457 
Water-ousel,  135 
Water-shrew,  capture  of  a,  136 
Water-wren,  the  174 
Waters,  Wilbur,  257 
Whisky-jack,  the,  175 
Whitney,  Caspar  W.,  323 
Wildcat,  the,  often  hunted  with  hounds, 

171 

Wilderness,  the  American,  i 
Williams,  Colonel  Roger  D.,  366,  410 
Willis,  John,  in,  131,  156 
Wolfers,  the,  388 
Wolf,  the,   17 ;  where  found  in  United 

States,   386,    389 ;    varieties  of,   386 ; 

colors  of,  387  ;    wholesale  killing  of, 

388  ;  scarcity  of,  388  ;  difficult  to  hunt, 

389  ;  size  of,  391  ;  attacks  cattle,  392  ; 
cunning  of,  394 ;  food  of,  395  ;  rarely 
attacks  man,  397 ;  should  be  hunted 
with    dogs,   398 ;    hunting  the,  402 ; 
killed  by  hounds,  407 

Wolverine  Pass,  195 

Wood  buffalo,  247 

Woods  on  fire,  the,  133 

Woody,  Tazewell,    no,   179,   187,   196, 

3",  431 
Wranglers,  night-  and  day-,  23,  58 

"Yard, "a,  223 


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1902-1904. 

With  Introduction  by  Henry  Cabot  Lodge.  12°,  $1.50 
Standard  Library  Edition.  8°  .  .  .  .  2.00 


New  York  — G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS —  London 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
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JAN    11  1935 


AUG 


1942 


LD  21-100m-8,'34 


12064 


241488 


